


To the Stars and Back Again

by VTsuion



Series: AUs Where No Man Has Gone Before [10]
Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1960s, Angst with a Happy Ending, Asexual Spock, Astronaut James T. Kirk, Brief Consent Issues (No Sex), Cover Art, Dancing, Dating, Divorce, Drama, Extramarital Affairs, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Getting Together, Human Spock, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Married Spock/T'Pring, Misunderstandings, NASA, Open Relationships, Period-Typical Homophobia, Polyamorous James T. Kirk, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:15:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 39,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24808396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VTsuion/pseuds/VTsuion
Summary: The year is 1966. Captain James T. Kirk is an astronaut who longs more than anything for the freedom of outer space. One evening, at the Space Center mess hall, he happens to meet Dr. Spock, a brilliant astrophysicist who denies all emotion. There is an immediate spark, but things are never so simple.
Relationships: James T. Kirk & Leonard "Bones" McCoy, James T. Kirk/Janice Rand, James T. Kirk/Nyota Uhura, James T. Kirk/Spock, Spock/T'Pring (Star Trek), Stonn/T'Pring (Star Trek)
Series: AUs Where No Man Has Gone Before [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1194531
Comments: 18
Kudos: 41
Collections: T’hy’la Bang 2020





	1. Countdown

**Author's Note:**

> This is my part in this year's [T'hy'la Bang](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/thylabang), with [art](https://fishermansoul.tumblr.com/post/621377028490412032/to-the-stars-and-back-again-chapter-1-vtsuion) by the lovely [Fishermansoul](https://fishermansoul.tumblr.com/) (aka [shepromisestheearth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shepromisestheearth) on AO3)!  
> I couldn't have done it without the help of an army of betas, in particular [Marlinspirkhall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marlinspirkhall/)! All remaining errors are my own.

* * *

“And now, join me in welcoming the man of the hour, Captain James Kirk!”

The reception hall echoed with applause as Jim stepped away from the crowd and joined Mr. Evans on a makeshift stage against the wall.

Only two more days, and then he would be back in Houston, away from all the prying eyes and pointed questions.

They shook hands in front of the microphone, and then Mr. Evans returned to the crowd, leaving Jim standing front and center. The reporters in the front quickly closed in around him, their tape recorders held aloft to ensure they wouldn’t miss a word. Still, Jim took a moment to survey the room. It was almost entirely gentlemen in suits, some older, some younger, all looking up at him expectantly. He spotted a particularly handsome young man, certainly no older than himself, with soft brown hair and intelligent eyes that seemed to be asking all kinds of questions without saying a word.

Jim grinned at him and the man’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Thank you, Mr. Evans, for inviting me,” he began at last, with a gesture toward his host.

Fortunately his amplified voice echoed around the room - his throat had been feeling a little sore since the stop in Oklahoma and shouting would have done him in for good.

When the polite applause faded, Jim continued, “You’re all here because you want to know what’s out there, what it’s like being in outer space.”

A few of the more enthusiastic people in the crowd nodded and someone said something Jim didn’t quite catch.

“That’s what we want to know too,” Jim said. “Already, many of my fellow astronauts have blasted into outer space and returned safely to Earth. They’ve stayed in space for the eight days necessary to get to the moon and back. They’ve met other spaceships in orbit and docked together. They’ve stepped outside the ship protected only by their spacesuits and walked in outer space. Step by step we are getting closer to the moon, but we won't stop there.”

As he spoke, his eyes had wandered up, away from the crowd. He stared out at the junction between the ceiling and the wall as though he could see the sky and the galaxy beyond.

He turned back to the crowd and continued, “We don’t have wings, but man has always dreamed of taking to the sky. Well, we’ve got the sky now, so we can look even higher, to the moon and the other planets, and one day, even the stars.

“That is the next frontier of discovery and progress. The boundless universe is growing even larger as we speak and we have only touched the surface. This is only the beginning. And it’s our duty now to set a good precedent and ensure that space remains free and untarnished by war for generations to come.

“Mankind _will_ go into space and _we_ will get there first.”

He paused as the crowd cheered.

One of the reporters piped up, “What’s it like, going into space?” The young man who asked the question was pressed up against the stage, a pad of paper in hand, pen poised to write.

“I don’t know,” Jim answered with a wry grin. “I haven’t had my chance yet. We’ve been busy planning and getting the rocket ships ready to go, but I’ll be sure to tell you when I get back.”

“Are you worried about all the risks of going into outer space?” Another, slightly older reporter called out. They all seemed to press in closer around the makeshift stage, if it was possible, apparently encouraged by the first.

“It’s healthy to have a little fear of things going wrong,” Jim said, as good-naturedly as he could, “but we have whole committees of people who just talk about everything that could happen and how to make sure it doesn’t. No trip has ever been more thoroughly prepared than our little hops into outer space. Statistically speaking, it’s safer than driving into town. And it’s more than worth the risk.”

“Why do _you_ want to go into space?” a woman chimed in.

“It’s the next frontier. One day the moon will be a popular vacation spot, but now someone needs to take those first steps. There’s a lot we still don’t know, but that’s what makes it so exciting.”

“Is there anyone you’ll miss when you’re out in space?”

“A man is bound to get lonely every now and then, but I doubt I’ll have much time for that.”

“Is it true that you’re still unmarried? Is there any special lady in your life?”

“The only lady for me is the Apollo,” he said with a wink.

Mr. Evans finally stood up and intervened, “Gentlemen, thank you very much for coming! I’m sure Captain Kirk will be able to answer any more questions you have while you enjoy some refreshments. Captain Kirk, any concluding words?” He turned to Jim.

“Space travel is an investment in our future. We must boldy explore this new frontier for America and all life on Earth.” He hadn’t gotten it word for word, but it was close enough to NASA’s official vision.

The crowd cheered again as Jim stepped away from the microphone and off the stage.

Mr. Evans began to direct everyone else to the buffet on the opposite end of the room. Still, the reporters pressed in around him, all asking “just one more question.”

Jim smiled, but pushed on through the crowd, waving off congratulations and curious entreaties. Finally he caught the eye of Mr. Evans’s secretary, Miss Turner. He gave her a pleading look and she waded through the crowd to his rescue.

“You’ll have plenty of time to talk to Mr. Kirk during the reception,” she insisted, standing between him and the eager pack of reporters. Only when they had gone on to wait in line for the buffet did she turn to him and ask, all business, “What was it you wanted?”

Miss Turner was a pretty woman, to be expected for the secretary of a man like Mr. Evans. Her brown hair curled and shone in just the right places - he wondered how much time she’d put into it - and she wore a flattering suit; a vertical striped blouse pinched around her waist by a narrow skirt.

“It’s just nice to see a friendly face for a change.” He fixed her with the full intensity of his gaze, admiring her warm brown eyes.

She smiled and her demeanor softened a little. She seemed to almost forget, for a moment, that she was the one responsible for making sure everything ran smoothly, and Jim for his part, was happy to join her.

“That’s very kind of you, Mr. Kirk,” she said, but she was back to just being Mr. Evans’s secretary, talking to their guest of honor.

Jim leaned in a little closer. “It’s a shame I’ll be leaving so soon. I would have liked to get to know you a little better.”

“Really?” she exclaimed, with as much skepticism as wide-eyed disbelief.

“Is it alright if I step out for some air?” he asked with a mischievous smile. “I promise I won’t be long, you can even come and keep an eye on me.”

She hesitated and glanced over her shoulder at her boss, busy entertaining the guests. “Alright,” she said, “just a short break.”

With a purposeful stride Miss Turner led Jim across the room, past a few eager gentlemen, bursting with questions, and through a pair of double doors, into the hallway. They took an elevator downstairs and stepped out of the lobby into the cool night air.

They stopped just a few feet out of the way of the front entrance. For a moment, they merely stood on the edge of the golden pool of light, looking out onto the dark, quiet street. Most of the shops and restaurants were already closed, but they could hear snaches of conversation from intermittent passers-by carried by the gentle breeze. Jim was content to stand in silence, savoring the few moments of freedom from the bustling crowd.

Miss Turner pulled out a cigarette and offered Jim a light.

He shook his head. “Not allowed.”

“Oh,” she said. She hesitated. “Is it hard - being an astronaut?”

Jim shrugged. “It’s more than a day job.”

“That was a lovely speech you gave. It must have taken a lot of practice.”

He gave her a wry smile. “I’ve never given it the same way twice.”

She smiled back and her brown eyes seemed to shine a little in the dim light. She really was beautiful.

She tore her eyes away and Jim spied a tinge of pink on her cheeks.

“Thank you for rescuing me,” Jim said.

“From what?” she asked, her eyes narrowed as she glanced up at him.

“From all of them.” He jabbed his thumb back toward the hotel. ”From all of their questions.” He dropped his voice and his smile turned mischievous. “But you can ask me anything you like.”

“Really?”

Jim gestured for her to go ahead. She looked away, seemingly lost in thought. Her bronze hair fluttered in the cool breeze.

“Does it really bother you? All of the questions?” she asked at last.

Jim shrugged. His eyes were fixed upon the cloudy, almost orange sky, reflecting back the city lights.

“I couldn’t imagine having everyone’s eyes on me like that,” she admitted.

“There are some things I would rather they didn’t ask, but it’s all part of the job.”

She hesitated. “But you’re sure you don’t mind me asking anything?”

Jim met her eyes again. “Positive. Fire away.”

“Well, is it true what you said up there, that you don’t have a girl back home? Such a nice man like you, I can hardly believe another woman hasn’t snatched you up already.” The words seemed to tumble out.

He shook his head. “Maybe I just haven’t given anyone the chance.”

His eyes drifted back up to the stars, hidden behind the thick, cottony clouds.

She followed his eyes upward. “It must get lonely up there, so far away from anyone.”

“It doesn’t sound too bad to me,” he said with a smile, “at least for a little while.”

* * *

Jim could hear the roar of the engine through his bulky headphones.

“You are cleared for liftoff.” The air traffic control man’s voice sounded in his ears amidst the static.

Jim pushed the ignition into full throttle and in a rush of acceleration, he blasted forward, down the runway. The plane slid off the ground into the bright blue sky. His stomach seemed to soar. The airport and the town around it faded into the distance. Farmland passed below, but he kept his eyes on the sky.

Without even thinking about it, a wide grin spread across his face and he let out a whooping laugh that was lost in the roar of the engines. The whole world opened up before him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the faint white sliver of the moon. For an instant he considered taking a hard right and going straight there himself - in that moment, it sure felt like he could. But the moon was a lot farther than it looked, and he wanted to be back in Houston in time for dinner so he could get back to work on actually getting there.

If he was in an F-104 he would’ve done a loop, but he hadn’t been given anything nearly as fun to work with. But that was alright because it was enough just being back in the air. It almost made the whole press tour worth it.

As he flew south, the sky began to fill with puffy white clouds. First, he passed one or two drifting by, and then they formed little patches, and soon enough he seemed to be flying between two white blankets - one covered the ground below, and the other coated the sky above. As he glided downward in the descent, the flat expanse of clouds seemed to transform into a rugged landscape of towering white mountains and endless bright caverns.

Then, he dove into the clouds and for an instant everything was white. Water vapor streamed down the window in horizontal lines, propelled by the sheer speed of the plane. And then he dropped below the clouds into an overcast Texas day. It was drizzling when he touched down on the runway, and he taxied to the hanger in a steady rain.

By the time Jim had his feet back on the ground and had dried off a little from running through the rain, it was past time for dinner. His stomach growled in discontent, but the timing wasn’t too bad as far as the rest of him was concerned. Most of the men had probably already gone home to their families, or, if they were going to eat in the mess, they would have done so earlier. He would have the place almost to himself, and that felt about right after a press tour.

The mess hall wasn’t completely empty. Almost all of the tables had at least someone, and many were occupied by a few men huddled together, talking quietly among themselves. But Jim didn’t see anyone he recognized and there was plenty of space for him to sit alone.

It was quiet enough that his squeaky footsteps echoed loudly around the room as he walked to the buffet and found an open seat at a table - he wouldn’t have been able to be stealthy if he tried. A few men glanced over as he sat down and he thought he heard someone whispering something about an astronaut, but he didn’t mind - let them talk. As long as no one wanted him to give another speech, he was fine. He was content to eat and people watch.

He was almost done when he spotted a familiar face. A tall, lean man with shiny dark hair and sharp, incisive eyes. His lips were set in a perpetual thin line so that, to the casual observer, he always looked displeased about something, but that was actually very rarely the case - in fact, he had a very sharp, clever sense of humor, if you knew where to look. Jim fancied by the curve of his eyebrows, he was at the moment engrossed in thought, probably running complicated equations in his head.

He didn’t seem to notice Jim and if it was anyone else, he would have let them pass none the wiser. But this was a rare opportunity to catch up, and Jim found the prospect surprisingly agreeable.

So, he called out, “Doc! Dr. Spock!”

Only then did the aforementioned Dr. Spock turn around to spot Jim seated at a nearby table. Jim grinned, and Spock quirked an eyebrow at him in a unique expression of bemusement. Everyone else who had looked up too quickly returned to their meals.

“Care to join me?” Jim asked with an easy smile.

“I would be amenable to doing so. However, I do not intend to delay you if you have nearly finished eating,” Spock answered, his voice stiff with a slight accent. “Is there something you wish to discuss?” He cocked his head to the side in an intimation of curiosity.

“Just to chat,” Jim said.

Spock inclined his head in a slight nod. “Very well. First, I will acquire something to eat, and then I will join you to ‘chat.’” The very corner of his lips twitched upward in a suggestion of a smile.

He soon returned with a tray of food and sat down across from Jim. Spock positioned himself on the edge of the chair, his back ramrod straight. He moved with military precision even though he was a civilian through and through - he had never served in his life.

“What brings you down here?” Jim asked. “I haven’t seen you since our last class on orbital mechanics. I hope we didn’t scare you off.”

“I appreciate a challenge,” Spock said. “I merely prefer to eat dinner later in the evening when there are fewer people.”

“You come here often, then?” Jim propped his head up on his hand and leaned towards Spock in exaggerated curiosity.

The corner of Spock’s lips twitched upward again and he leaned in too, just barely. “Yes, I find that it is more efficient to eat here than to return home.”

“The missus doesn’t insist on seeing you? I’m surprised, Doctor,” Jim teased.

“She understands the importance of my work.” He was sitting up straight again, his expression as stern as ever.

Jim got the point; Spock’s relationship with his wife was his own business. Bit of a shame that he was married, but that was probably for the best - Jim could never be too careful, between the FBI and the Soviet spies that would be all too happy to get a bit of dirt on an astronaut.

Jim smiled to lighten the mood. “So, what have you been working on, Dr. Spock?”

His expression immediately softened. Jim could see that Spock was evaluating him with those dark eyes, a quizzical slant to his eyebrows, and the barest trace of a smile on his lips.

“My current assignment is to determine the trajectory of a manned spacecraft,” he explained.

“Which one?”

“I believe it is the same mission that you are assigned to.”

“Is it?”

Spock nodded.

“My first launch and I get one of the best physicists at NASA,” Jim said with a grin.

Spock sat up a little straighter at the compliment, but replied as serious as ever, “There are many physicists assigned to the same mission - all manned space flights are top priority. What have you been working on in preparation?”

Jim waved off the question. “I just got back from a round in the barrel.”

Spock quirked an eyebrow at him.

“A press tour,” Jim explained. “I hopped around the country answering personal interest questions. That's why I'm here so late, I landed a couple hours ago and thought I could use some peace and quiet. Meeting you here was just a lucky coincidence. I'll have to go looking for peace and quiet more often.” He shot Spock a grin.

Spock nearly smiled back. “I was going to apologise for disturbing you, but if you are certain you do not object to my company, Captain.”

“No objection at all. And you can call me Jim - Captain Kirk was my father.” He held out a hand to shake.

“Very well” - Spock hesitated and lowered his voice - “Jim.” He accepted Jim’s hand.

* * *

The next morning, Jim arrived back at work bright and early. He greeted the officers and engineers with a smile as he passed.

Janice was sitting at her desk, patiently arguing with a gentleman on the phone. Jim had time, so he sauntered over, leaned an arm against her desk, and waited.

She only glanced up to shoot him a glare and continued talking on the phone, “No, no rush at all; you’ve called at a good time. Go on.” She attempted to shoo Jim away, but he merely smiled and made himself comfortable.

He had begun to whistle by the time the conversation seemed to be coming to an end. “You’re sure there isn’t anything else?” Janice asked.

A pause while the man on the other end of the line presumably answered.

“No?” she confirmed. “Okay, well good-bye, then. Thank you for calling.”

Finally, her social smile vanished and she turned up to face Jim. “What do you want?” she demanded with a pointed frown.

“Just to say ‘hello'. It's nice to see a familiar face after being away.” He smiled back at her.

“What? You want me to comfort you now that you miss all the women you met while you were out there?”

His smile faded.

He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off, “No, I’m not falling for that again. That’s the last time you’ve made a fool out of me, James Kirk.”

“Janice, I never meant to make a fool of you.”

“Well you shoulda thought of that first. Don’t you have a meeting to get to?” She pointedly straightened the pile of papers on her desk.

Jim was hoping she could reschedule it for him, but he knew when he wasn’t wanted. He didn’t press; he just shook his head and got back to work.

After a few weeks away, there was a lot that needed doing. First, there were the meetings that he had missed. There were over a hundred pages worth of proposed projects all vying for a spot on the next mission, and it was his job to sift through them all to prepare for a committee meeting where they would decide which were good enough. Thankfully the committee had made some decisions while he was away, but there were many that still needed to be made.

And then there was training.

“Do you ever think that maybe men aren't meant to go into outer space and that you should just leave well enough alone?” Dr. Leonard “Bones” McCoy grumbled as he checked Jim’s eyes.

Jim grinned. “It’s just like a rollercoaster.”

They both knew the centrifuge was a lot worse than any rollercoaster, but Bones let it slide. Instead, he muttered something about “wooden death traps” that Jim didn’t quite catch and retorted, “If your blood pools up in your head after a month in zero-Gs, don’t come running to me.”

“Last you were saying it was a week,” Jim teased, “But everyone in number five did fine up there for eight days.”

“That’s it, Jim.” Bones stepped back so he could look at him properly. “We don’t know, and that’s what makes it dangerous. All we know is that human beings weren’t made to go up there.”

“There’s a lot of things we weren’t ‘meant’ to do,” Jim pointed out. “And how else am I supposed to get you that moonrock?”

Bones turned his scope to Jim’s ears. “And give me some Martian virus?”

“You’ll be contaminated already from treating us,” Jim said with a grin.

“Maybe I’ll be retired.”

“You’d miss us too much - who would you complain about then?”

Bones pointedly changed the topic - “How did the press trip go? Meet miss right yet?”

Jim shook his head. “It’s not like I had much of a chance. Janice is still angry with me though.”

Bones nodded sagely. “I heard from Nurse Chapel, and it sounds like Miss Rand has a point.”

“She knows we’re not like that,” Jim protested.

“That’s what you think, but clearly she has other ideas. I know you wouldn’t just mess around, but sometimes I wonder what you’re after.”

Jim shrugged. “Aren’t we all looking for love? Maybe I just don’t want the white picket fence.” He took the opportunity to change the topic himself. “Did you ever meet Dr. Spock - at least that’s what we called him; I don’t know if I could pronounce his real name. He gave the astronauts that class on orbital mechanics.”

Bones shook his head. “Why?” He glanced up from peering into Jim’s ear to give him a skeptical look.

“Nothing, I just ran into him in the mess while I was having dinner, we had a good chat. Turns out he’s working on my launch. I should introduce you sometime, I think you’d get along.”

“At least he isn’t another test pilot.”

“That’s the spirit,” Jim gave him a pat on the shoulder. “You two can complain about all us reckless astronauts together, and he’s got a great sense of humor.”

“But he’s an astrophysicist, isn’t he?” Bones asked warily. “He’s probably as nutty about space as the rest of you.”

Jim shrugged. “Occupational hazard. You must be used to it by now.”

Bones just shook his head.

“You’ve got a clean bill of health for now,” Bones declared. “I’d say don’t do anything to mess it up, but that’s what they’re paying you for. Now get out of here before I find something else wrong with you.”

* * *

With one thing or another, a week passed and Jim found himself back in the quiet mess hall toward the end of the evening. He got his dinner and was looking for an open seat when he spotted Spock sitting at the end of a nearby table. He almost looked out of place with his perfect posture, forearms neatly propped up on the table in front of him as he cut his food into even cubes.

“Spock!” Jim exclaimed. “And here I was worried I'd be too early,” he said as he slid into the seat across from him.

Spock looked up from his dinner and gave Jim a sharp nod. “Captain Kirk - Jim. Good evening. Given the hour, you have little cause for concern about being too early.”

“They still have food, so it can't be too late, and you're still here.” Jim grinned back at him.

“As you are aware, I prefer to eat late when the mess hall is relatively empty. What brings you here at such a late hour? You typically prefer to eat earlier, do you not?” Spock’s eyes narrowed a little in uncertainty.

“I was hoping I’d run into you.” Jim leaned forward and met Spock’s eyes with his own intense gaze, and Spock reflexively leaned in a little to mirror him, though he was still sitting rigidly upright by most standards.

Jim would have been happy to watch Spock forever just to figure out the layers of meaning behind each expression, and from the way Spock was looking back at him, Jim guessed that he was equally fascinated. Jim knew better than to flirt with him, but there was something irresistible about the mischief that shone in his deep brown eyes. Besides, they weren’t really doing anything, just chatting after work, eating together in the mess hall - not exactly a romantic location.

“So,” Jim said at last, “Tell me more about those trajectories you've been working on.”

Spock's eyes widened in surprise. A hint of a smile flashed across his lips as he registered the question. “Certainly,” he replied, sitting a little taller. “After all, it is essential for you to know the details of how you will be expected to maneuver in space.”

“Of course,” Jim said with a grin. “And if you want I can tell you a bit about the other experiments we've sent up there.”

“That would be most interesting. I may be able to make some recommendations based on my own work, if you would like.”

“You're the expert. Now, I want to know how you've figured out those launch trajectories.” Jim leaned in a little further.

“It is quite simple,” Spock began, and eagerly launched into the intricacies of orbital mechanics with a gleam in his eyes.

They talked until it was pitch black outside and the mess hall was nearly empty aside from themselves. Eventually they walked out to the parking lot together and lingered in the orange glow of a street lamp, just chatting.

Spock finally glanced down at his watch and declared, “It is later than I anticipated. I must return home to be ready for work tomorrow.”

“Ah well,” Jim said, “You're probably right. Next week, same time, same place?”

“Certainly. I will be at the mess hall, promptly at seven forty-five.”

Jim grinned. “See you then.”

Spock left to find his car with a nod. Jim waved after him until he vanished in the darkness, and then meandered off to find his own car, his heart fluttering in his chest.

* * *

“You won’t guess who I ran into the other day,” Jim said.

Montgomery Scott, one of the best engineers at NASA, was lying on his back underneath the mostly-completed midsection of a rocketship. He made an indistinct noise of acknowledgement, but made no attempt to remove himself.

That was enough encouragement for Jim, who continued, “Dr. Spock. I ran into him in the mess hall and we got to talking.”

At that, Scotty slid out from underneath the rocket and craned to look up at Jim. “Really?” he asked with a prominent Scottish accent. “I didn’t realize he was still in town. How’s he doing?”

“Well,” Jim replied with a smile. “It was good talking to him. Apparently he eats dinner in the mess hall most nights, he’s just there late to avoid the crowd. He’s plotting the trajectory for our launch.”

“Is he?” Scotty exclaimed.

Before Scotty could say any more, his assistant, Hikaru Sulu, piped up as he handed Scotty another tool, “Every night? Doesn’t he have a wife to go home to?”

Scotty took the tool and slid back under the rocket.

Meanwhile, Jim answered, “He does, but I can’t say I’d blame him for wanting a little space from the missus.”

“And here we all thought you liked a distraction,” Mr. Sulu said with a wide grin.

Jim just shrugged. All he could think of was Spock’s eyes shining with humor.

“Now,” Scotty said, sliding back out again, “What has he said about our launch?”

“Nothing’s set in stone yet,” Jim said. “Apparently they’re still running the calculations.”

“Well, remind those theoreticians that we’re working with real machines here, not massless objects on frictionless plains.”

“He knows. Didn’t you want to hear about the plans for our launch?”

“Of course! What are you waiting for?”

Jim smiled and did the intricacies of orbital mechanics as much as justice he could.

* * *

“‘Evening, Doctor,” Jim said, his voice low, as he sank into the seat across from Spock.

Spock glanced up at him, calm and composed as ever, but without any trace of a smile.

“You’ve heard the news?” Jim asked.

Spock inclined his head.

Jim sighed. “Sometimes it feels like I’ll never get up there.”

“It is an unfortunate setback.”

“You could say that again.”

“It is unfortunate.”

Jim shook his head. “Spock, have you ever wanted something so badly, only to have it slip away?”

“I endeavor to avoid excessive impulses.”

It took Jim a moment to register what Spock had said and even then he wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. “I’m surprised you’re not as frustrated as I am. It’s as much your launch as mine.”

“I agree that it is unfortunate,” Spock replied as though he was about to launch into an explanation of some complicated equation. “However, what is, is. There is no use in being concerned with that which one cannot control.”

Jim nodded as he struggled to understand what Spock was getting at. “Just because I can’t control the timeline doesn’t mean it doesn’t affect me,” he attempted, though he was sure he was missing something.

“We must alter our behavior accordingly,” Spock acknowledged. “But that is no reason to allow a schedule adjustment to overwhelm one’s capacity for rational thought.” He looked bemused by the prospect and Jim thought he detected something teasing in Spock’s tone.

“I think it’s a little soon to be hauling me off to the madhouse,” Jim said with a wry smile.

“It could be considered a form of madness, but it would hardly be practical to incarcerate almost all of humanity for succumbing to the passions.”

“Like frustration?” Jim confirmed.

Spock nodded. “All emotions are excessive impulses, which cloud the rational mind.” He said it as though it was perfectly rational, but he must have seen some of the absurdity in what he was saying and there was an almost knowing look in his eyes.

“I see…” It explained a lot about Spock, but at the same time it raised so many questions.

“This line of reasoning is not new. The ancient Greek stoic philosophers argued that in order to live a good life it is essential to rid oneself of emotion.”

Jim couldn’t help but push back a little. “Surely some emotions aren’t all bad.”

“Emotions reflect an inaccurate impression of reality. It is essential as a rational being and in particular as a scientist to reject any falsehood.”

“So you would say I’m not really frustrated that the launch was delayed, I’m just under a false impression?”

“Your frustration is a temporary reaction to the delay that will fade with time while the objective truth of the delay remains constant. In the interim, it may cause you to act in ways that do not align with your true intentions.”

“I can see that with frustration, but happiness?” Jim insisted.

“Happiness too fades, giving way to irrational disappointment at its absence. And like frustration, happiness distorts one’s view of reality, resulting in actions that one would not otherwise take.”

“Like jumping for joy?”

“Such as agreeing with an illogical proposition merely because it is associated with something that appeals to your emotions.”

“I see…” Jim was far from convinced, but he could see that there was nothing to be gained by arguing. Instead he said, “Of course, you succumb to no such fallacy?”

“I endeavor to be in command of my faculties.”

“You wouldn’t say you enjoy these dinners with me, then?” Jim teased.

“I find your company to be intellectually stimulating,” Spock assured him.

“That’s all?” Jim couldn’t help but ask.

“It is high praise,” Spock insisted.

“Of course,” Jim said with a grin. “Well” - he leaned in conspiratorially and Spock followed him seemingly reflexively - “for the record, I find your company to be intellectually stimulating too.”

Jim stared into Spock’s deep brown eyes, mere inches away. For all his talk about the disadvantages of emotion, Jim could see the evidence of a smile hidden across his face and he could bet there was a lot more where that came from. Spock’s eyes seemed to shine with teasing mischief in the bright fluorescent light.

* * *

Jim sometimes forgot how huge the space center was. He saw it from the sky often enough and he had meetings all over the place, but somehow there were still parts he rarely saw - like where the physicists worked. He had never so much as seen Spock’s office even though they were both working on the same launch. It was easy to get lost in the seemingly endless labyrinth of identical hallways, but he made his way down the hall with a purposeful stride.

“Excuse me, miss,” he said, stopping before he passed a beautiful woman coming in the other direction.

“Nyota Uhura,” she finished his sentence for him. “You’re new around here?”

“To these parts,” Jim said with an easy smile. He held out a hand to her. “James Kirk, but you can call me Jim. I don’t suppose you could point me in the right direction.”

“The astronaut?” Uhura exclaimed, though she hesitated to take his hand. “I thought I recognized you from somewhere, but, if you don’t mind me saying, you look different from in the papers.”

Jim waved it off. “They’re always airbrushed.”

“I see.” She smiled back at him, a quiet clever smile. “Now, where did you want to get to?”

Jim explained his mission and Uhura led him to a large, open office. It was lined with desks where women worked, hastily scribbling equations or hammering at typewriters.

“There he is” - she gestured toward the back of the room.

Sure enough, standing in the far corner, staring at a giant chalkboard covered in complex equations, was the lean figure of Dr. Spock.

Jim grinned. He would have been content to just watch Spock work, but he was supposedly there on business. He turned back to Uhura. “Thank you for showing me around. We should do it again sometime.”

She just shook her head and waved good-bye with a smile. “See you around.”

Once she was out of sight, Jim made his way over to the far end of the room. The secretary at the front turned to ask him what he wanted as he passed, but he just gave her a mischievous smile and gestured for her to keep quiet.

He waited until he was just a couple yards away before he exclaimed, “Spock, don’t suppose you have a moment?”

Spock turned sharply to face Jim. “Captain Kirk, to what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked formally, but he wasn’t all serious.

“It’s Jim,” he insisted. “I can’t just drop by to see you?”

Spock raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Do you not have work that requires your attention?”

Jim shrugged it off.

Spock still didn’t look entirely convinced, but he answered carefully, “I appreciate your unexpected visit, however, if you are not here about a matter of business, I should give my work my full attention, and I will be able to speak more freely with you at dinner.”

“I just wanted your opinion about an experiment that’s being proposed for the next launch,” Jim admitted.

“I see,” Spock said - Jim wondered if he was disappointed.

“You’d know more about it than me,” Jim explained, “and I should take care of it before I leave for another go in the barrel tomorrow.”

“You will be going on a press trip?” Spock clarified.

Jim gave a reluctant nod.

“How long will you be away?”

“Just until next Friday. I should be back in time for dinner.”

“Very well” - Jim thought he saw a suggestion of a smile cross Spock’s face. “What is the proposed experiment?”

Jim was in the middle of explaining it when they were interrupted.

“Excuse me” - it was Janice, and she looked less than pleased to see him.

Jim glanced over at Spock, who had stepped away as she approached.

“Janice, is everything alright?” Jim asked.

“You’re wanted,” she said, all business.

“I don’t suppose you wanted to visit me?” he asked with a wry, hopeful smile.

She gave him a sharp, no-nonsense glare. “No.”

“Oh well.” He smiled at Spock instead. 

Spock was watching him with disdain, or maybe even jealousy.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to cut our meeting short - apparently I’m needed,” Jim said. “See you at dinner.”

“Yes,” Spock said. His discomfort seemed to have vanished as quickly as it appeared. “I will see you at dinner. I can give you my thoughts on the experiment then, if you would like.”

Jim grinned. “Of course. I find your thoughts invaluable.”

Janice made a noise that wasn’t quite a cough, reminding them of her presence.

Jim shot Spock a final glance before following her out the door.

* * *

It was late afternoon by the time Jim touched down in Houston. He had plenty of time to get washed up and join Spock in the mess hall for dinner, but the thought of even going back inside the space center made his head begin to ache. He was sure there were countless things that needed to be wrapped up before the weekend that could use just a quick opinion, if only he glanced at a report - not to mention everything that had piled up in his absence.

Jim waved off Mr. Sulu in the hanger a little less politely than he should have and hurried out to his car. He had a couple hours. He hoped a shower and some peace and quiet in his mercifully empty house would be enough to freshen him up for dinner.

He let out a sigh of relief as he stepped through the front door into the dark and barren living room. For a moment, he just let his eyes fall shut and savored the silence; no more reporters’ prying questions, no one shepherding him from place to place. He could picture himself drifting beyond the bright blue sky, in the endless void of space studded with infinitely many stars just waiting to be explored.

Finally, his eyes fluttered open and he landed back on Earth. He flicked on the light, illuminating the living room and the kitchen and dining room beyond. There was furniture aplenty, a few trinkets and mementos here and there, the leafy green houseplant on the kitchen counter looked no worse for a week of absence, but on the whole the place had a bare uninhabited feel. He had never quite gotten around to decorating and since he only ever slept and sometimes ate there, it didn’t really matter. Sometimes he had someone over, but then he had something other than the blank walls to look at.

Now, he went straight through to his bedroom and the master bathroom within and turned on the shower. But even after a long rinse he was still worn out from a long week of interviews and speeches. He felt like his usually easy smile had become plastered onto his face. The idea of anyone else dictating his schedule chaffed, even if it had been his idea initially.

Finally, after watering the plant, he picked up the phone and dialed Spock’s office. He politely asked the secretary who answered to transfer him over to Spock.

“Captain Kirk? What is it?” Spock sounded confused and maybe a little concerned.

Jim smiled a little at the sound of his voice. “Sorry, I don’t think I’m up for dinner tonight.”

“Are you alright? Did something happen during your trip?”

Jim waved it off. “Just the usual, maybe a little worse. After all the questioning, I think I need some peace and quiet. I couldn’t even bring myself to go back onto base.”

“I understand,” Spock answered stiffly. Jim wished he could see Spock’s expressive face in the hope that it would reveal all the nuance missing from his words alone.

Despite everything, Jim found himself a little reluctant to hang up. “See you on Monday then.”

It seemed he wasn’t the only one; he heard Spock hesitating on the other end. “If you would like, as we were unable to have our usual dinner, you may come to my house for dinner tomorrow night, though I would understand if you had other plans or would prefer not to-”

Jim cut him off with a smile, “That sounds great. When should I come over?”

“Seven?” Spock suggested.

“I’ll be there. See you tomorrow.”

“Yes, I will see you. Goodbye.” Spock sounded like he wasn’t entirely sure what he had gotten himself into, but Jim’s heart was already racing at the prospect as they hung up.

Jim spent most of his quiet evening at home wondering and speculating what the next day would bring. There was something exciting about getting even a small glimpse into the private life of the serious and enigmatic Dr. Spock. Though he knew it wasn’t all sunshine and roses.

Jim was still speculating the next day as he ran a few errands. He picked up a nice bottle of wine for Spock and the missus and then went back to his house to get ready. Finally, Jim declared it close enough to seven o’clock and drove off, into the night.

Spock and his wife lived in a small house in a cul-de-sac not very different from the one Jim had just left. A young woman greeted Jim at the door. She was beautiful in a long dress that was fashionable without being showy. Subtle makeup accentuated her features, framed by long dark hair, up in an elaborate plait.

“Captain Kirk? It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said with no trace of an accent. She made a gracious hostess, but despite that and her soft features, there was a stiffness to her, not entirely different from Spock when he didn’t quite know what to make of something.

Jim took her hand. “The pleasure is all mine. You can call me Jim. And how should I address the lovely lady of the house?”

“Trisha is fine.” The corners of her lips turned up in an almost sardonic smile. “Do come in.”

Jim stepped into a bright entrance hall. Their house was everything Jim’s wasn’t, at once comfortable and classy; elegant sculptures and classical paintings interspersed with a few more personal touches from the old world. Spock was standing a few paces back in the middle of the hallway, his hands folded behind his back.

Trisha accepted the bottle of wine that Jim had brought and pushed past Spock to lead the way into the dining room. Jim flashed Spock a smile and gestured for him to go ahead. The three of them sat down around a grand wooden table that took up the center of the large dining room. It looked a little sparse, set for three when it could have seated many more.

“Thank you for having me over,” Jim said as they all began to fill their plates. “I’d almost forgotten what it was like having a good home cooked meal. The mess hall just doesn’t compare.”

“I should hope not.” Trisha shot a glance at her husband.

“The function of the mess hall is to be expedient and it fulfills its purpose satisfactorily,” Spock informed her.

“Well, I’m grateful you invited me,” Jim said.

Spock’s attention turned back to Jim and the tension in his stiff posture all but vanished. “And I am grateful that you are sufficiently recovered from your recent trip.” He seemed to examine Jim as though to confirm that was actually the case.

“After a busy press trip, a quiet dinner is just the thing,” Jim assured him.

“Good.” Spock hesitated, seemingly at a loss for words. He watched Jim intently, as though searching his face for some indication of what he made of Spock’s home.

Jim just smiled back. He could have been content to sit there forever, watching all of the emotions he somehow managed to evoke flit across Spock’s usually stoic features. Finally, he remarked to Trisha as much as Spock, “You have a beautiful home - the benefit of a woman’s touch.”

“Why, thank you,” Trisha said. “I admit I wasn’t expecting visitors, let alone an astronaut. I didn’t realize physicists got to know the men who actually go into space. ”

“Not just any physicist. The astronauts all have to take classes on everything that might come in handy and your husband taught the one on physics in space. He also happens to be involved in planning my upcoming launch.”

“I didn’t realize. You work closely with the physicists?

“Not usually,” Jim admitted. “We just run into each other in the mess hall. I don’t know most of the men and women who make it all possible.”

“I see,” she said with a wry smile. “I was under the mistaken impression that my husband stayed late just to get more work done.”

“We mostly talk shop, but we do technically have time off for dinner, at least.”

“Very generous,” she intoned. “It’s kind of you to take time away from your busy schedule to join us.”

“Not at all. I happen to have the day off and I wouldn’t miss your company for anything.” He glanced over at Spock, who had been watching the exchange with a wary eye.

Spock quirked an eyebrow at him in response.

Jim smiled. “That press trip felt like it lasted forever. What’d I miss?”

“Forever is a considerable exaggeration,” Spock said. “You were not absent for long enough to allow much of significance to occur.”

“Hyperbolically” - Jim corrected himself.

“Yes. I am only aware of some minor adjustments in your launch trajectory. I expect it will soon be finalized. Your superiors no doubt have a more complete report of what passed while you were away.“

“I’m sure. They can wait until Monday.”

“Given your highly sociable nature and aptitude at communication, I find it surprising that you have such an aversion to going on press tours,” Spock remarked.

Jim sighed. “I became an astronaut to leave the world behind, not to get stuck on Earth answering questions about what could go wrong, and whether I’m afraid, and if there’s a special woman in my life.”

“Sounds glamorous,” Trisha remarked drily.

“Not exactly.”

The conversation wandered a little from there. Suddenly, they were interrupted by the sharp ring of a telephone in the other room.

Trisha leaped to her feet and excused herself to run and answer it. Spock remained stiffly seated, his expression stony.

“The director couldn’t wait until Monday to get the latest report?” Jim suggested.

The muffled sound of urgent conversation drifted in from the other room.

“I expect it is Trisha’s lover,” Spock replied.

Jim stopped short. There was no indication of a joke, and it wasn’t one Spock would have made. He said it so matter-of-factly, but not quite enough to conceal his discomfort.

“I see…” Jim finally replied, at a loss for anything else to say.

“I am not typically home at this hour and I did not inform her that you would be joining us for dinner until after I returned from work yesterday, which was apparently insufficient warning.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You are not to blame.”

Before they could continue, Trisha hung up the phone and returned to the dining room. She looked a little different from how she had when she left. Maybe it was just how Jim saw her, but instead of the sharpness he expected, there was something softer in her features, a private smile across her lips. She almost looked younger.

“Sorry about that. Just an old friend calling from New York, didn’t realize we had company.”

Spock merely nodded in acknowledgement.

Jim attempted to restart their previous conversation, which had been acceptable if not quite comfortable. But they were almost done eating anyway.

Spock led Jim to the living room as Trisha cleaned up from dinner. Just like the rest of the house, it was carefully decorated, paneled with a rich dark brown wood that also made up most of the furniture and even the blinds over the large front window. Spock turned on a couple of dim lamps as Jim settled down on the large leather sofa that took up the far wall under the window.

“Would you like something to drink?” Spock asked.

“Sure.”

Spock poured them each a glass and joined Jim on the couch, leaving a few feet between them. For a little while they just sat and drank in silence. Spock leaned forward, his hands folded together in front of him, to all appearances lost in thought.

“What is is. What will be will be,” he murmured, more to himself than Jim. Spock abruptly sat upright. “My apologies, I have been an inattentive host.”

“Not at all,” Jim said with a smile. “I was just admiring…” he trailed off, his gaze fixed on Spock.

“You are very kind.”

For a moment they just watched each other. Spock seemed to hesitate on the verge of speaking.

Spock turned away. His eyes flickered over to the door that led out into the hall, through which they could faintly make out the sound of Trisha working in the kitchen.

At last, Spock said, “Of all emotions, I have found that love is often the most irrational.”

“I’m sorry.” Jim reached out and rested a hand on Spock’s shoulder.

“You misunderstand. I have worked for so long to rid myself of emotion that I am no longer capable of such feelings. However, my wife is not of the same mind.”

“You aren’t capable of love?” Jim asked, incredulous.

“No. It is better not to be.”

“Isn’t love part of what makes us human?”

“All animals must reproduce for the continuation of the species,” Spock said with some disdain. “What distinguishes _Homo sapiens_ is our capacity for rational thought in defiance of our baser instincts.”

“Maybe I’m blinded by my emotions, but I can’t see love as a bad thing.”

Spock raised his eyebrows in disbelief, but he looked more like himself; the tension that had wracked his slender frame had largely dissipated, and Jim could make out the suggestion of a smile on his lips. “You are not entirely lacking in reason, though you do elect to cloud it with emotion,” he said as though it was unfathomable why someone might do such a thing.

“You don’t know what you’re missing,” Jim replied with a sly grin. He scootched toward Spock, closing a little of the space between them.

Spock made no move to object. Jim’s eyes darted down to Spock’s lips and for an instant he wondered what would happen if their lips met. It was a tempting prospect, but it would have taken a braver, more foolish man than he to succumb. He pulled back and the moment was gone, though the tension remained in the air, drawing them ever closer like static electricity.

Maybe Spock was right to be apprehensive of love after all: in their case, it was a dangerous thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many details about the work and life of an astronaut are taken from Michael Collins's autobiography, Carrying the Fire: An Astronaut's Journeys.


	2. Ignition

“I got a call from an old friend back in Iowa,” Jim remarked over drinks one evening. “He was telling me about this girl he met. Apparently she’s a real catch.”

Bones nodded and gestured for Jim to continue, his glass in hand, but he refused to withhold judgement.

They were sitting at a small table in the corner of a little bar outside of Houston. It was busy that evening, full of men and women from the space center relaxing after work, but it wasn’t so loud that they had to shout just to have a conversation.

“She’s got a good head on her shoulders and a sharp sense of humor once you get to know her,” Jim continued.

“Sounds like your friend has it bad for her,” Bones said, but he didn’t sound convinced, like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Jim just smiled. “I suppose you could say that. She’s one of a kind.”

“Is she now?” Bones was starting to get impatient. “And what’re you telling me all this for? Finally got you thinking about finding a woman of your own and settling down?”

Jim shrugged. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“What is it then?”

“It’s not so simple… There’s not much he can do; she’s married.”

Bones threw up his arms in exasperation. “A married woman? Really, Jim?”

Jim attempted to shush him. “You don’t have to tell the whole world!”

“What are you playing at, Jim?” Bones demanded, his voice only a token lower.

“I just thought my friend could use some advice from a more level head than mine.”

“I swear! You expect me to believe this nonsense about some friend you’ve never mentioned before all the way in Iowa? If you’re going to complain to me about your love life, at least have the decency not to lie to me about it!”

“You’re sure?” Jim flashed him a wicked grin.

Bones frantically waved him off. “I don’t need the details. If you really wanted my advice you would have listened to it already. What’s gotten into you? If nothing else, you usually know when to quit.”

“I know what you’re thinking-”

Bones gave him a look.

“And you’re right. If it was just about what I want, I wouldn’t even be thinking about it. But she isn't happily married.”

“So that makes it alright for you to go and make it worse?”

“Her husband’s cheating on her already,” Jim said darkly. “But it still wouldn’t be right, and she’s too noble to give him a taste of his own medicine. That doesn’t mean we can’t see each other, go for dinner - nothing wrong with that.”

“You’re asking for trouble, if you ask me.”

“Maybe I am.”

“And how do you know she won’t give it to you, if she’s willing to go this far?”

“She’s not like that. Her self control is a lot better than mine. She could explain it better than I can.”

“Explain what?”

“I don’t suppose you’ve heard of stoicism?”

“I can’t say I have.”

Jim waved it off. “She’s a very rational woman, refuses to be subject to the whims of emotion.”

“Sounds like a lot of fun,” Bones replied sarcastically. “If she doesn’t have feelings, what’s she doing messing around with you? Wants to be seen with an astronaut?”

“Maybe she just likes my company.”

“If you keep carrying on like this, eventually someone’s gonna get hurt!” Bones glared at him.

Jim could only shrug, as though to ask what Bones wanted from him.

Bones shook his head and let out a sigh. “With all the women practically throwing themselves at you, I would have thought you’d have been married twice already. Why this one?”

“She deserves better.”

“And messing around with you is better?”

“She seems to think so. Just because she’s married doesn’t mean she doesn’t deserve a little happiness.”

Bones just shook his head.

* * *

Jim picked at his dinner. The food in the mess hall wasn't the most appetizing, but it could have been a five star meal and he still wouldn't have had much of an appetite.

Spock put down his fork. "Jim, something is troubling you."

He looked up and met Spock’s keen gaze with a smile. “Don’t worry. It’s nothing.” It was just how Jim’s heart fluttered at the tender look in Spock’s eyes, clouded with concern.

Spock’s eyes narrowed as though he knew Jim was lying and didn’t like it, but wasn’t willing to call him out on it.

Jim took a deep breath before the plunge. It was an innocent enough question. “Want to go for dinner sometime?” he asked as lightly as he could.

“Are we not presently at dinner?” Spock asked, an eyebrow raised to emphasize the question.

Jim smiled a little sheepishly. “Out, I mean. Somewhere a little nicer than the mess hall.”

“I see,” Spock said stiffly.

“Only if you want to. I thought it might be a nice change of pace.”

Spock nodded in acknowledgement. “A change of pace is at times welcome.”

“It’s a date then?” Jim asked with a grin.

Spock gave a hesitant nod. “Yes, it is, as you say, a date.”

* * *

Jim adjusted his collar. It was just dinner, nothing to be worried about. He smiled and his reflection smiled back at him, a little too eager, but what the hell.

With a parting wink, he strode out into the living room, grabbed his suit jacket and hat off the hook by the front door and stepped out into the humid evening. The sun had just dipped below the horizon and the brilliant sunset was giving way to a deep blue sky. He could even see the first stars beginning to peek through the darkness. The whole street was illuminated with the orange glow of electric lights coming from rows of identical little bungalows as their inhabitants sat down to dinner after a hard day of work at the space center. Jim was rarely among them, and tonight he had a date.

He arrived at the restaurant early. He pushed the door open with a pneumatic whoosh and stepped into the low light of an elegant restaurant, buzzing with quiet conversation and the soft clinking of utensils. Men in dark suits sat with women in bright cheery dresses. For an instant his heart leaped into his throat at the thought that maybe he’d chosen somewhere a little too fancy for their first night out.

And then he spotted Spock standing by the maître d’ in a very sharp black suit, and Jim’s heart started racing for a completely different reason. He made his way over to join him. 

He put a hand on Spock’s shoulder and shot him a grin. “Spock,” Jim said softly.

Spock turned abruptly to face him. His features softened as he realized who it was. “Jim, there you are.”

“You’re early,” Jim teased.

Spock nodded and glanced down at his watch to confirm - “As are you.”

Jim gave him a sheepish smile. “I just couldn’t wait.”

“I am also famished,” Spock said, missing the point a little. “This restaurant is apparently highly recommended.”

“Only the best.” Jim gestured for Spock to lead the way after the maître d’, up to their table for the evening.

It was in a secluded spot, as Jim had requested, off to the side and out of earshot of most of the other diners, somewhere they could make the most of the dim atmosphere.

Jim offered Spock a hand. Spock glanced at it with a raised eyebrow, but allowed Jim to help him into the booth. Only when Spock was comfortably seated did Jim sit down across from him with a smile.

Jim leaned in, his chin on his hands, and just gazed at Spock, taking in his sharp features, his distinctly lined face and those piercing eyes. Spock looked back at him with some confusion or uncertainty, but he leaned in a little too and held his head a little higher.

"I'm a lucky man," Jim remarked eventually.

"Few men are chosen to become astronauts," Spock replied, but Jim could tell Spock knew that wasn't what he was talking about.

"I'm doubly lucky, then," Jim said with a wave, "that I had the chance to meet you and that you've agreed to share your company with me."

"You do yourself insufficient credit," Spock insisted. "It is by your merits that you were selected to be an astronaut. And I find you to be scintillating company." The barest trace of a flush may have graced Spock's cheeks as he realized the weight of what he had said.

"With lines like that, I'm surprised the ladies aren't all over you," Jim teased, a hand on Spock's arm.

Spock raised an eyebrow at Jim in disbelief, but the wrinkles around his eyes betrayed his appreciation for the compliment. Still, Spock said, "I merely state the truth. I should hope that I do not evoke such a response.”

“Very gallant of you to save some women for the rest of us.”

“That is not my intention.”

Jim smiled. “I’d rather have your company anyway.”

“If I did not know better, I would suspect you of employing flattery.”

“Never. I mean every word.”

“It is only logical to speak the truth,” Spock assented, but he didn’t look entirely convinced.

“Exactly. Maybe you could help me make the logical choice of what to have for dinner." Jim passed Spock a menu, letting their fingers brush together as it changed hands.

Spock gave the menu a cursory glance before promptly delivering his verdict, "Based on your preferred meals at the mess hall, might I recommend the pasta?"

"Certainly."

It ended up not making much of a difference. The meal was delicious, of course, but Jim barely noticed what he was eating. His eyes hardly left Spock for an instant as their conversation traipsed across the universe. Spock seemed to glow in the low light, his eyes positively glittering as though they were full of a whole galaxy of shimmering stars. And he spoke with such passion that only hinted at the infinite depths of emotion Jim glimpsed beneath his stoic facade.

Before he knew it, the waiter came by to take their empty plates and leave the bill. The restaurant had grown quiet in the intervening time, and with no excuse to delay, Jim made to pay.

Spock gave him a look.

"My treat," Jim insisted. "After all, it was my idea."

"And it was my decision to accept your invitation."

"That's the trouble with inviting a man out to dinner," Jim said with a wry smile.

"The rational solution is to divide the cost evenly in proportion to our respective incomes."

Jim just gave him a look.

To his surprise, Spock then took the bill and began to scribble in pen on the back of the receipt. "What is your income?" he asked.

Jim stopped him with a hand on his wrist. "I'll cover it. You can pay next time if you want."

"If you insist." Spock reluctantly handed over the bill.

"My pleasure.”

* * *

“Come on in” - Jim waved Spock inside.

It wasn’t much compared to Spock’s house. Jim regretted, just a little bit, not having taken the time to decorate in the few years he’d lived there, but it was too late for that now, and besides, Spock wasn’t there to look at the walls.

Jim helped Spock out of his suit jacket and ushered him into the dining room. “Have a seat. Dinner should be done in a minute.”

Jim stepped into the kitchen while Spock sat down at the table, where he could see Jim working over the bar that divided the two rooms.

“Thank you for inviting me.”

“Just returning the favor.” Jim glanced up from the stove and shot him a smile.

The soup smelled pretty good, if Jim said so himself.

As he ladled out two bowls, Spock remarked, “Do you play chess?” He must have noticed the dusty old board sitting on the bookshelf.

“Since I was a kid. You?”

Spock nodded. “I also learned to play when I was very young.”

“I’m sure you’re a formidable opponent. We should play sometime.”

“Yes.”

Jim set the bowls down on the table and took a seat across from Spock. “The first course,” he declared.

“I was unaware you were an accomplished chef,” Spock said, sipping cautiously at his still steaming soup.

“I can follow a recipe at any rate.”

“That does not make it an insignificant feat.”

“Tonight, it was worth the effort.” Jim leaned in toward Spock, almost conspiratorially.

Spock lowered his spoon. He shifted a little closer, perhaps to see Jim more clearly. His sharp gaze flitted across Jim’s face, as though trying to memorize his features, or searching for the answer to some lingering question. Jim let his own eyes wander to Spock’s barely parted lips, and then back up to meet his gaze.

“Why?” Spock asked at last. “There are many more pressing matters vying for your attention.”

Jim smiled. “Are there? This seems pretty pressing to me.”

“Your time could be spent in more logical ways,” Spock insisted.

“It isn’t logical. I just happen to enjoy your company.”

Spock raised an eyebrow at him and returned to his soup. But his eyes didn’t leave Jim for long, and a suggestion of an almost smug smile teased at his lips.

They soon moved on to the main course. Despite Jim’s protests, Spock helped him bring the bowls back into the kitchen, and carried out their plates once Jim had prepared them.

The conversation inevitably drifted to work, and in the midst of it Jim exclaimed, “I know it’s not easy to send a man into space, but it takes so long to get off the ground, sometimes I wonder if we’ll ever get to the moon, let alone anywhere else.”

“The U.S.S.R. has just made a successful launch.”

“I’ve heard,” Jim replied, none too pleased about it.

“It will not expedite your launch; however, it is a significant accomplishment.”

“For the commies.”

“From what I have read, Pavel Chekov, the young Soviet cosmonaut who was aboard the shuttle, does not seem so different from yourself.”

Jim frowned at the comparison. “I have nothing against Mr. Chekov. It’s what he represents.”

“I confess, I have little sympathy for Brezhnev, but still I find that I prefer engaging the Soviet Union in a space race rather than a war, and I regret that there is more competition than cooperation.”

“Of course, no one wants war. But you want to work with them?” Jim demanded, incredulous.

“Were you not just lamenting the slow rate of progress in our own space program? There are many gifted Soviet scientists. If we were allowed to collaborate, it could only increase our efficiency.”

“Collaborating isn’t their way. In the commies’ book, either you’re under their thumb, or you’re the enemy.”

“We are not so different in that respect.”

“We fight to keep people free!” Jim pounded his fist on the air for emphasis.

Spock raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

Jim let out a huff of air. His tone was a little lighter as he said, “There are a lot of people who would take offense at that.”

“I am aware,” Spock said drily. More sincerely, he said, “My apologies, Jim, I did not intend to offend you.”

Jim waved it off. “You’re right, we would probably get out there” - he jerked his head toward the ceiling and the stars beyond - “faster if we did work together, but they don’t exactly make it easy. And maybe there are some things that aren’t worth compromising.”

* * *

Jim and Spock meandered along the grassy shore of the lake near the space center. Jim had suggested they get some air and Spock obliged, so they took their discussion of the upcoming launch out of Spock’s office, into the breezy evening.

The sky was already beginning to darken when they set out, and now the lake reflected back a hazy rainbow painted across the sky. Hints of pale green were nestled between blue and electric yellow, which faded into orange and then to bright red on the horizon.

Jim paused to look out over the lake, to drink in the brilliant colors, and took a deep breath of humid air. He glanced over at Spock, standing a few feet away, watching him with raised eyebrows, his head quizzically cocked to the side as though Jim was a puzzle to unwind. The evening light seemed to set Spock aglow. It illuminated his skin and shimmered in his tidy black hair, giving him an almost otherworldly appearance. Everything looked unnaturally bright with an unusual tinge, as though they were under the atmosphere of another planet.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Jim gestured toward the sunset, but his eyes were fixed on Spock.

"It has some aesthetic appeal," Spock acknowledged, but despite his impersonal appraisal, the corners of his lips turned up a little in an intimation of a smile.

"Romantic..." Jim suggested.

"Is it?" Spock asked reflexively.

“If I was with a woman,” Jim amended, with a sly sidelong look at Spock.

“Of course.”

“You don’t look too bad yourself. Any lady would be lucky to be in my place.”

“I prefer to have your company,” Spock replied, almost all seriousness, though Jim didn’t miss a certain warmth in his voice.

“And waste such a beautiful sunset?”

“I would hardly consider this to be a waste.”

Jim smiled. His eyes wandered out over the water, rippling with all the colors of an iridescent rainbow.

“If I was with a woman, of course we wouldn’t stand so far apart,” he remarked, taking a step closer to Spock, so their shoulders just brushed against each other. “I would put an arm around her waist. Maybe we would kiss.” Jim glanced up at Spock.

Spock turned to look at Jim. His wide deep brown eyes shone in the evening light, glowing with the color of the setting sun. They spoke the volumes he could not, would not say aloud; the uncertainty as well as the eager excitement. Jim’s heart pounded in his chest and he could only imagine Spock felt the same.

It took all the restraint Jim had not to lean in just a little closer. Instead he merely smiled and said, “But it’s just you and I. And I know romance is the furthest thing from your mind.”

“You are aware I endeavor to restrain such emotions,” Spock said, but the gleam in his eyes disagreed.

“You’re a wiser man than I, Dr. Spock.”

Spock raised his eyebrows in pointed disagreement.

Jim just smiled and inched just a little closer, so he was almost leaning into Spock’s side. He fancied he could feel Spock’s heart beating alongside his own and wondered if Spock could tell in turn how fast his heart was beating.

As the brilliant rainbow of color faded into a ribbon of deep red along the horizon, they continued on their way around the glowing lake, side by side.

* * *

“We had a wonderful evening,” Jim said with an excessively lovesick smile. He was sitting on the edge of the examination table in Bones’s office for his usual post-endurance training check up, though as often happened, they spent more time talking than checking up on Jim’s condition.

“Did you, now?” Bones asked, no less irritated than Jim expected. He didn’t even glance up from his stethoscope, pressed a little harder than necessary into Jim’s bare chest.

Jim ignored him. “She’s something special...”

“Didn’t take long for her to give in to the whims of emotion,” Bones retorted.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Jim said more seriously.

Bones took off the stethoscope and stepped back to give Jim a good solid look. “And what if she does? Damned if I know why, but you have that kind of effect on women, especially if she’s feeling vulnerable with everything going on with her husband. I’m surprised she hasn’t fallen for you already.”

“Maybe she has.”

“And what if she leaves her husband because of you?” Bones demanded. “What’ll you do then? Would you marry her?”

Jim could only smile and shake his head. “Bones, you’re getting a little ahead of yourself. We’ve just gone on a few dates.”

But Bones didn’t give up that easily. “What are you after? What is it you want?”

“Want?” Jim asked. “Nothing really. I’m happy with things as they are.”

“You know what your problem is?” Bones exclaimed, not waiting for an answer. “You’re so afraid of commitment you’re chasing after a married robot of a woman. Miss Rand was right to get out while she could.”

Jim sighed in frustration. “Bones, I’m not afraid of commitment.”

“Really? Then why haven’t you settled down? Every other week it seems like you fall in love with another woman, surely one of them must have been willing to marry you.”

“You know the stars come first. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“But this is? All of the other astronauts have time for families. You just don’t want to be tied down.”

“I am fighting gravity,” Jim pointed out with a wry smile.

Bones just shook his head.

* * *

Jim tried to roll the tension out of his shoulders. It was a lovely evening. He had Spock all to himself, sitting on the other side of the table watching him with that intense gaze of his. Jim smiled back. His attention belonged right here, on the handsome man in front of him. There was no use in worrying about things going on miles away.

Spock put aside his menu and broke the silence at last. “Something is troubling you.”

Jim shook his head. “Nothing important.”

Spock’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t argue.

Jim leaned in and lowered his voice a little. “Nothing more important than enjoying your company.”

Spock still seemed unconvinced. “If it is troubling you then it is important to me,” he declared completely matter-of-factly, as though it were self-evident.

Jim appreciated the sentiment, but he waved it off. “Just the news.”

Spock nodded expectantly for Jim to continue.

“More protests.”

“It is discouraging to be reminded of such senseless violence,” Spock said, but his voice betrayed some uncertainty, as though he could tell that wasn’t what Jim was getting at.

Jim frowned. He tried to keep his voice light. “You agree with them?”

“Of course.”

“Of course.” Jim knew Spock well enough not to expect anything different, but he couldn’t help but be disappointed. It wasn’t really the right sort of conversation for a date and he knew he should probably have let it go, but Jim couldn’t help but add, “I wouldn’t call fighting the commies senseless.”

“Warfare in general is to be avoided. One could argue that perhaps there are cases where violence is necessary. In this instance, however, it is difficult to see the conflict as anything other than political maneuvering.” He hesitated, but made no attempt to conceal his skepticism - “You believe the United States should interfere in Vietnam?”

“Whether we should be there or not, they shouldn’t be protesting like that, not while men are out there dying on their behalf!”

Spock seemed somewhat taken aback by Jim’s vehemence, and maybe it was a little excessive, but Spock’s voice remained level as he replied, “The protesters are attempting to decrease the number of young men who are sent to their deaths. What would you advise people to do to express their displeasure?”

“There are some things worth dying for.”

Spock raised his eyebrows in a silent question.

Jim hesitated. Quietly, he said, “Captain George Kirk was a flying ace in WWII. He went down behind enemy lines, but if he survived he would’ve done it again in a heartbeat.”

“Your father?”

Jim nodded. More lightly he said, “Being an astronaut isn’t exactly the safest job out there.”

Proceeding very cautiously, Spock asked, “And if you were drafted?”

“I would go and do my duty to the best of my ability,” Jim said before Spock even finished his question.

Spock raised an eyebrow, conveying his opinion clearly enough without words.

“What would you do?” Jim insisted. Before Spock could answer, he held up a hand to stop him. “I forget you’re a civilian. If I wasn’t an astronaut, I would be there already. Sometimes I wonder what right I have to be safe at home when everyone else is out risking their lives.”

Spock hesitated. Carefully, he reached out across the table and rested his hand ever so lightly on Jim’s arm. He looked Jim firmly in the eye and said, “I am grateful that you are here.”

Jim gave him a small rueful smile and let out a soft sigh. “To tell you the truth, so am I, and that’s what bothers me.”

“It is a very reasonable reaction.”

“I know.”

Spock’s hand lingered on Jim’s arm a moment longer before they both returned to their menus, all but forgotten in the heat of their debate. It took Jim a little while to process the words again, but he figured out something to tell the waiter and soon enough their conversation resumed on other channels.

During a natural lull, Jim remarked between bites, “I’m a little surprised you agree with them; I would’ve thought you were too straight-laced to get along with hippies.”

Spock gave him a look.

“Free love and all,” Jim clarified with a troublesome smile.

Spock nodded in understanding. “Though I maintain that love, like all emotions, is antithetical to reason, I see no logic in admitting some types of love while rejecting others. I find they are all equally irrational.”

“I see. Then you wouldn’t, for example, object to my seeing a woman or two?” Jim suggested as casually as he could.

“You have heard my objections to indulging such emotions, but your predilection for romance seems to have left your faculty of reason largely untouched.”

“That’s very kind of you, Dr. Spock.”

* * *

Jim greeted Uhura with a smile and a wave as he strode into Spock’s office. 

She smiled back before hastily returning to her work.

It was toward the end of the day, but no one seemed to be thinking of letting up. The calculators were all busy typing and scratching away at their desks, and in the back of the room, Spock was standing in his usual place at the chalkboard, embroiled in a meeting with two other gentlemen, who looked familiar from somewhere - probably some top physicists that Jim had run across in some briefing. Even Jim was technically there on business, to discuss a few last minute details about the upcoming launch.

Jim slowed down as he drew nearer, planning to linger off to the side somewhere until Spock was ready for him. He was happy to just stand around after all the extra endurance training he’d been doing leading up to his launch.

One of the other men was in the midst of an emphatic explanation - Jim caught something that sounded like coefficients and angles - talking loudly with a proud German accent.

Whatever it was, Spock didn’t look too pleased with it. To Jim’s surprise, he cut the man off, his tone essentially polite, but clipped - “Yes, I am aware.”

Spock’s own accent seemed more prominent than usual, or at least it caught Jim’s ear. He had always taken Spock’s soft accent as ambiguously European, his formal manner of speaking as uniquely his own, but now, hearing them side by side, there was no doubt where it had come from. It didn’t really matter, but Jim couldn’t help but wonder about all the many things he didn’t know about the enigmatic Dr. Spock.

As the other man began to argue, Spock glanced away and met Jim’s eyes.

Jim smiled back.

Suddenly, without any warning, Spock called out, “Captain Kirk, there you are.” He turned back to the men he was supposedly meeting with - “My apologies, but I have an urgent meeting with the captain. If there is anything more you wish to say, you may leave a memo and I will endeavor to reply.”

They protested to no avail as Spock walked straight to the door, giving them no choice but to trail behind, and shut it as soon as they were over the threshold.

He turned sharply to face Jim. “Captain, my apologies for keeping you waiting.” Everything about Spock looked stiff and uncomfortable, like he had just been dressed down by a particularly unpleasant sergeant.

“Dinner?” Jim suggested. It was early, but he had a feeling it would be better to talk somewhere outside the calculators’ hearing - the sound of scratching pencils and clicking typewriters had nearly faded into silence.

Spock gave the room a sweeping glance and all at once the room erupted with busy noise. Only then did he reply, “Certainly.”

Spock followed Jim out the door, not even protesting as they piled into Jim’s car, leaving Spock’s car behind. Jim drove on autopilot to one of their usual restaurants, a quiet place out on the corner of town.

Jim spared a glance over at Spock, sitting silent and stony-faced in the passenger seat. As tense as he looked, it was an improvement from when they left the space center. His steady composure had returned and he seemed to watch the world from behind a careful mask.

His eyes flickered over to Jim for just an instant, but in that moment Jim thought he saw Spock’s expression soften a little.

Jim smiled back, but the road demanded his attention.

After a few minutes, Jim ventured to ask, “What was that all about?”

To his surprise, Spock promptly replied, “My colleagues merely had some questions about my calculations.”

Jim didn’t blame him for not being in a terribly communicative mood, but he had to ask, “Everything going alright?”

“There is nothing wrong with my calculations,” Spock said sharply.

“Of course not.” Jim hesitated. Finally, he attempted, “No one likes the Nazis, but it’s better to have them working for us than for the Soviets.”

“Perhaps,” Spock said reluctantly - he sounded far from convinced.

Jim couldn’t help but wonder. He didn’t mean to pry, and if Spock didn’t want to tell him it was none of his business; but as Spock’s friend, wasn’t it his duty to make sure everything really was alright?

“Did you know them?” Jim asked at last, as carefully as he could.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Spock’s eyes widen in something like fear. “Fortunately no” - Spock’s voice wavered ever so slightly. When he elaborated, his voice had a far-away sound. “A friend of my father who was in government warned him before it was too late. We escaped just in time.”

“Oh.” The gears clicked into place. More urgently, Jim asked, “Your colleagues were just there to talk about your equations?”

“Yes,” Spock said, and it didn’t seem like he was trying to conceal anything. He certainly had no reason to defend them.

“Good.” Jim glanced over at Spock, trying to catch his eye for as long as he could look away from the road. “If anything happens, you’ll tell me?” he insisted.

“You have more important matters to attend to.”

Jim shot him a look. “You have more of a right to be here than they do.” 

“One cannot put on trial and imprison an entire generation.” Spock was right, of course, but Jim was sorely tempted to argue, if only for Spock’s sake.

They drove the rest of the way to the restaurant in silence, though Jim was reluctant to keep his eyes off of Spock for long. Spock stared out the window at the road ahead, his mind no doubt far away, where Jim couldn’t follow.

Finally, Jim pulled into a parking spot outside the restaurant, a little ways from the front doors, with a few empty spaces between them and the other cars. Once the car was stopped, Jim turned to Spock and put a hand on his shoulder.

Spock jumped a little in surprise at the contact.

“Are you alright?” Jim asked softly

Spock raised his eyebrows as though the question was absurd. “There is no reason for me to be otherwise.”

Jim patted his shoulder. “Good.”

There was something challenging and at the same time inviting about Spock’s sharp gaze. The quirk of his lips suggested bemusement at Jim’s illogical concern.

Jim smiled and waved toward the restaurant. “Shall we?”

Spock inclined his head in agreement and they both stepped out of the car. Jim slung an arm around Spock’s shoulders as they made their way inside.

* * *

“I’m sorry you won’t get to meet her,” Jim remarked between sips of his drink. “Unfortunately she couldn’t come tonight.”

Bones didn’t seem too disappointed. “Had plans with her husband?”

Jim pursed his lips, but he couldn’t really argue. “Yeah.”

The two of them were sitting at one of a few scattered tables on the edge of the boisterous crowd. They weren’t the only ones out doing a little preemptive celebrating that evening. Jim recognized a few familiar faces from the space center already out on the dance floor. It was a nice night for it, though Jim would have prefered seeing the stars above to a white canopy, but the twinkling lights draped around the tent gave it a starry glow, at least. There was only one thing missing.

Jim downed the last of his drink and scanned the crowd again. He glanced down at his watch. Spock was always early; for him to be late was unfathomable.

Bones shot Jim a look, equal parts concerned and skeptical.

Jim just shook his head.

He was so busy watching the door that he didn’t even notice Scotty coming over until he exclaimed, “Jim, what’re you doing moping on the sidelines? I thought for sure you’d be out dancing with a pretty young thing the first chance you got.”

“Maybe later,” Jim said with an easy smile. “Thought I’d keep old Sawbones company for a little while first.”

“Very generous of you,” Bones retorted. “He was just complaining-”

Jim cut him off, “Have you seen Janice around?”

“I see how it is,” Scotty said with a knowing smile.

Bones shot Jim a dirty look, but Jim only smiled back.

“No, I haven’t seen her, but I’ll be sure to keep an eye out,” Scotty assured him.

Jim nodded in appreciation and redirected the conversation to the thing that was on all of their minds that evening - “Are you ready to go up?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Scotty replied, taking a generous sip of his drink.

Jim clapped him on the shoulder. “That’s the spirit!”

“You’re both crazy, if you ask me,” Bones put in.

Scotty nodded. “There’s something mad about trying it, but someone’s gotta do it.”

Bones looked thoroughly unconvinced.

Suddenly, Jim heard a soft, familiar voice coming from hardly a foot behind him - “Captain Kirk, you requested my presence?”

Jim nearly jumped in surprise. “Spock, there you are! I was worried you wouldn’t make it.”

Spock stuck up his nose as though he was offended by the suggestion. “I would not miss the opportunity to ‘see you off’ before your launch.”

“Why, that’s very kind of you, Dr. Spock.”

Maybe it was all the excitement of the evening, of  _ finally _ going up into outer space, after so many years of preparation, but there was something about the look in Spock’s eyes that nearly took his breath away. Spock was always like that, with so much emotion shimmering just below the surface, and tonight his gaze was particularly intense, his words especially laden. There was so much Jim wanted to do on his “last night on Earth,” were circumstances just a little different.

Jim realized with a jolt that they weren’t the only ones there when Scotty cut in to greet Spock with an outstretched hand - “Dr. Spock, it’s good to see you again. I forgot you were still in Houston.”

“It is good to see you again as well, Commander Scott,” Spock said, taking it all in stride with the barest suggestion of bemusement.

“How’s the missus?” Scotty asked conversationally.

Spock froze for an instant at the well-meaning question. Stiffly, he answered, “My wife is well.”

Jim hastily waved him over to Bones. “This is my friend, Dr. McCoy, though we all call him Bones. Bones, this is Dr. Spock - I believe I’ve told you about him.”

Bones glanced between Jim and Spock with a funny look on his face. “Yes, I believe you have…” Finally, he seemed to gird himself and shook hands with Spock as well. “It’s nice to meet you, Dr. Spock.”

Spock gave him a sharp nod in reply. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Doctor. The captain has indicated to me that you are close friends.”

“I see…” Bones said.

“Don’t mind him,” Jim said conspiratorially, “He’s just like that. If he starts being nice to you, that’s how you know you’re in trouble.”

Bones shot Jim another glare, but it didn’t pack its usual peevishness - he almost looked more bewildered than anything.

“I will keep your warning in mind,” Spock said.

“And you can still call me Jim,” he added.

“Yes” - Spock hesitated just a little and his voice dropped with tender uncertainty - “Jim.”

Out of nowhere, Bones finally composed himself enough to say, “I hope you know what you’re getting into, Dr. Spock.”

Spock turned on him, his eyebrows raised in a silent challenge. “What am I ‘getting into’ as you say?”

Bones just shook his head and downed the rest of his mint julep. “It’s too early for this, Jim. If the two of you’ll excuse me, I need another drink.”

He met Jim’s eyes before he turned away, his gaze sharp and disbelieving; a familiar reprimand for Jim’s latest nonsense that said whatever anyone else may believe, Bones, at least, knew what Jim was up to and had no intention of letting him live it down. For a moment Jim half expected Bones to say something to confront him, but then he turned away, letting his expression speak for itself.

“You are certain this is within the bounds of your friend’s ordinary behavior?” Spock said, watching Bones go with a quirked eyebrow. 

Jim shook his head in a futile attempt to clear it. He glanced back over at Bones, who was now arguing with the bartender about something. “He’s probably all right.”

Spock nodded sagely.

Jim was about to offer to get him a drink when Bones’s assistant, Nurse Chapel, came over, followed by Janice Rand.

Jim smiled at Janice and she gave him an exasperated look.

Meanwhile, Nurse Chapel approached Spock looking distinctly nervous. “Excuse me, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to dance.”

Spock looked more than ready to refuse.

Jim cut in before he had a chance, “Why not? Have some fun.” Jim gave him a gentle nudge in the back for good measure.

“My apologies,” Spock said to the lady, “but I must refuse. I am hardly a suitable dance partner.”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Nurse Chapel seemed thoroughly flustered.

“Come on, Christine,” Janice said, looking ready to pull the other woman away, a hand already on her arm.

But before they could leave, Jim gave Nurse Chapel a smile and said, “I know I’m second to Dr. Spock here, but I don’t suppose you would honor me with a dance?”

“If- if you’re sure,” she said, self-consciously straightening her dress.

“Of course.” Jim offered her his arm and led her off to the dance floor with a parting glance at Spock.

They found a little clearing in the crowd to twist and swing to their hearts’ content. He took her by the hands and did his best to keep time without stepping on her feet as she swayed in and out.

“You’re quite the dancer,” Jim said as he swung her toward him, taking a step back for good measure.

“You’re not half bad yourself,” she said with a small smile. “You know you don’t have to be so cautious,” she added as she twirled away.

“That’s very nice of you,” Jim said, drawing her close once more. “But I’m afraid I’d step on your toes.”

She glanced at him over her shoulder - she looked like she wasn’t entirely sure what to make of him.

When she danced a little closer she remarked, “You’re not as cocky as I expected.”

Jim smiled. “I’m flattered.”

“Really,” she insisted, “I almost see what Janice sees in you.”

The song came to a stop.

Jim took her by the hands and looked into her soft blue eyes. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, suddenly sounding a little breathless. She reclaimed her hands and said more firmly, “Thank you for helping me feel better.”

“It was my pleasure.”

She glanced back at where they had parted with Spock and let out a huff of air. “I should really know better; he’s even married. But a little dance wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

Jim just gave a sympathetic shrug - he wasn’t in a position to say anything.

They meandered off the dance floor as the next song started up. Janice met them on the edge of the crowd. She gave Jim a small smile before turning to her friend and wandering off together.

Meanwhile, Jim scanned the crowd. Spock, despite all his efforts to blend into the wall, was easy to spot. He was standing stiffly on the periphery, already looking in Jim’s direction. Their eyes met and Spock quirked an eyebrow at him. Jim smiled back and waved him over.

Spock slowly picked his way around the crowd and Jim met him halfway.

“You’re still not up for dancing?” Jim teased.

Spock gave him an incredulous look.

Jim shimmied back at him, twisting a little at the hips. “It’s more fun than it looks,” he attempted, though he knew his chances were slim.

“I confess,” Spock replied, “observing you did not inspire great confidence.”

Jim stopped and stepped a little closer. “Jealous? And here I thought you didn’t mind me seeing women.”

Spock raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “I have no cause for complaint. However it is not terribly engaging to watch.”

“I’m sorry.” Jim put a hand on Spock’s shoulder. “It isn’t right of me to invite you and then leave you hanging.”

“Not at all. It was kind of you to invite me, despite my disinclination for such activities.”

“Would a walk be more up your alley?” Jim gestured out at the dark evening, kept at bay only by the lights around the lively crowd.

“I would not object, but I do not intend to compel you to leave.”

“I wouldn’t mind a quieter atmosphere.”

Jim took Spock by the arm and led him out into the night. It was warm and humid, as it usually was in Houston, though the heat of the day had begun to fade. Their eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness as they tramped across an open grassy lawn. The noise of the revellers slowly faded behind them, until it was almost overwhelmed by the chirping of the crickets.

Jim stopped in the middle of the field and craned his neck back to look up at the darkened sky. It was a mostly clear night; a few dark grey clouds drifted past, but they were mere blips in the inky expanse beyond, and the stars shone like a thousand diamonds glittering in the heavens, but in actuality they were something far more incredible.

Spock remained close by Jim’s side - Jim’s hand still lingered on Spock’s arm.

Jim glanced over at him, though his eyes were inexorably drawn back to the stars. “It’s a beautiful night.”

Spock inclined his head in acknowledgement. “It is humbling to be reminded of the extent of the galaxy.”

There was a whole galaxy, a whole universe out there, far beyond their reach. Jim’s heart raced at the thought that soon he would be out there, even though he could only stray so far. He couldn’t help but wonder what planets orbited the other billions of stars, what strange life would one day be discovered.

His neck protested at being held at such an awkward angle, so he sat down on the slightly damp ground, drawing Spock with him. Jim lay out on his back and Spock obligingly joined him with some token reluctance. Jim shuffled closer until their sides were pressed together as they both stared up at the sky, the stars above brighter than any distant electric lights.

“I used to lie out under the stars for hours in the back of my dad’s old pickup truck.”

Spock’s steady breathing seemed to falter as he hesitated to reply. “It was not so dark in New York or Berlin, but when I was very young my mother took me to the countryside, where at night I could see the arc of the milky way across the sky.”

“That sounds lovely. It’s faint, but I think I can make out a little bit of it.” Jim held up his hand to point out the hazy line, just barely visible behind the stars.

“Perhaps.”

Jim let out a wistful sigh. “Maybe Bones is right, maybe I am a little star crazy, but I can’t wait to get out there.”

Spock hesitated again. His breathing grew more pronounced as he seemed to struggle over what to say. “May I ask why? You are aware that such a journey is not without dangers.”

“I know. But it’s worth the risk. There’s so much out there just waiting to be discovered, and we’ve barely scratched the surface.”

“We will soon be able to deploy automated probes.”

“I know, but it’s not the same. I want to see it for myself, to get off this planet.” Jim reached toward the sky as though he could grasp the stars in his hand.

“I see…”

“Have you ever flown? Really flown, not in one of those commercial behemoths.”

“No, I have not had the opportunity.”

“You’re missing out. I’ll take you up sometime. It’s the closest thing on Earth to being out there - at least that’s what they say. There’s nothing quite like it.”

“I suppose there is some appeal,” Spock said, though he didn’t sound entirely certain what it was.

“Why do  _ you _ do it?” Jim attempted to nudge him in the right direction. “Why do you want to launch us up there? Don’t want to get rid of me already, I hope.”

“Not at all,” Spock insisted. He took a moment to compose his thoughts before he continued, “There is, of course, the scientific imperative of discovery, and it would be illogical to limit one’s self to Earth when there is so much more to discover in outer space.”

“You don’t yearn for the freedom of being out in space, beyond all the prying eyes and demanding supervisors?”

“Perhaps there is some appeal to being beyond the illogical expectations of others.”

“Exactly! I wouldn’t want to stay out there forever, but sometimes a man needs a break from it all.”

He was so close he could almost feel the heat of the distant stars, drifting out in the incredible vastness of space. Only one more day and then he would be there among them. He could barely wait that long to get off the ground.


	3. Liftoff

Spock stood still, a point of calm amidst the flurry of activity. He had positioned himself out of the way in the back of the room, his hands clasped firmly behind his back. All around him, men hurried to and fro, conveying essential up to date information, and yet more men sat bent over terminals, speaking urgently into headsets and tabulating the latest readings. The small screen embedded in the wall ahead displayed the launch site, where the rocket stood tethered to the ground for mere minutes longer. Captain Kirk - Jim - and his flight engineer, Commander Scott, were already inside, strapped into their seats, ready to leave the world behind as soon as they were given the all-clear.

Over the radio, Spock could hear the Public Affairs Officer giving his latest report. “This is Apollo Launch Control at T minus 21 minutes and counting, and we are Go for the mission at this time. We really have a beautiful morning here in Houston, blue skies and almost no wind. The weather conditions in the Atlantic and Pacific are very satisfactory for a launch attempt. Surface winds in the area are from the north-west at 7 knots, the temperature is about 60 degrees. We appear to have some scattered clouds from 10 to 12,000 feet high. All aspects of the mission are Go at this time. This is Launch Control.”

Spock had done everything in his power. All of his calculations had been checked and checked again, as had every system aboard the rocket and all of those on Earth which it relied upon. Since the middle of the night, there had been a constant stream of announcements declaring that each component in turn had been tested and found to be “all-clear.” There were risks, but every contingency had been accounted for many times over.

Again, the voice of the Public Affairs Officer sounded over the radio, “This is Apollo Launch Control. T minus 9 minutes, 30 seconds and counting. Still aiming toward our planned lift-off time. The Spacecraft Test Conductor has just to complete a status check of all elements concerning the spacecraft operations. All reported Go and there were two particularly strong and loud Go's from the two astronauts in the spacecraft 320 feet above the base of the launcher. We are at T minus 8 minutes, 50 seconds and counting and we are proceeding at this time. This is Launch Control.”

Spock had seen the cramped interior of a rocket ship cockpit. He could envision Jim sitting there, ensconced in layers of bulky protective equipment, still smiling as wide as he had been when he and Commander Scott walked out in their space suits to board the van that transported them to the launch pad earlier that morning. That was the last Spock had seen of the astronauts on the official broadcast. There would no doubt be photographs from the interior of the rocket ship in tomorrow’s paper, but any reporters had long since been hurried out of the way of the impending launch.

“This is Apollo Launch Control at 5 minutes, 30 seconds and our count is still Go at this time.”

The constant buzz of activity that started long before Spock’s arrival had slowly died down as the hour of reckoning approached. Now, a nervous hush fell over the room. A few people were still talking in low voices and ever so often the men at terminals would glance back down at the screens in front of them, but for the most part everyone had fallen still and silent, their eyes fixed on the small screen in the front of the room, watching along with the rest of the world.

“We are still counting and are Go coming up on the 5-minute mark in the count. Mark. T minus 5 minutes and counting, T minus 5.”

This was the point of no return. Ever so slowly, the white box at the tip of the access arm pulled away from the top of the spaceship, cutting off the astronauts’ only evacuation route in the case of some unforeseen disaster. Inside, Jim was probably still smiling, his heart rate accelerated due to some combination of nervousness and exhilaration. Spock’s grasp tightened behind his back.

“We have firing command. The firing command is in, we are now in the automatic sequence. T minus 3 minutes and counting. The various tanks within the three stages of the launch vehicle are beginning to pressurize. They must all be under pressure before ready to launch.”

They all watched in silence as great white plumes streamed from the midsection of the vessel.

“Now 2 minutes and 32 seconds and counting. Our status report indicates that all aspects are ready. The Instrument Unit is ready. The spacecraft is ready. A final check of the Emergency Detection System - that ready light also on. First stage preparations are completed.”

Spock let out a long breath in an attempt to release the pressure building up in his chest, to no avail.

“One minute, 15 seconds; all third stage propellants pressurized at this time as we come up on the 60-second mark. T minus 60 seconds and counting; the vehicle is now completely pressurized. T minus 50 seconds and counting.

“35 seconds and counting. We'll lead up to an ignition sequence start at 8.9 seconds, which will lead up as we build up the thrust to a lift-off, if all goes well, at zero. We just passed the 25 second mark in the count, 20 seconds. All aspects are still Go at this time.

“T minus fifteen. Fourteen. Thirteen. Twelve. Eleven. Ten. Nine - and we have ignition sequence start. The engines are armed.”

A low rumbling sounded over the radio and quickly grew to a tremendous roar.

“Four.”

Bright red fire flared just under the rocket.

“...Three…”

The fire vanished as quickly as it had appeared in a plume of black smoke.

“Two...”

A blinding flash of yellow light exploded out from under the rocket and white smoke billowed out around it.

“One, zero. All engines running.”

The last tethers tying the rocketship to Earth pulled back as the towering rocket slowly rose into the air on a column of bright white flame. The screen filled with smoke in its wake.

“Liftoff, we have liftoff!”

The entire room seemed to hold its breath. Not a sound could be heard but the crackling buzz of the radio and the distant roar of the rocket as it ascended against a clear blue sky.

And then, another voice, less clear, but still intelligible and recognizable, came over the radio, “Lift off. The clock is running.”

At the sound of the captain’s voice, Spock’s heart leaped in his chest. All around him, men jumped to their feet and the room was filled with a resounding cheer that echoed in his ears.

* * *

Spock strode down the busy corridor to Mission Control.

He would not have been summoned were it not urgent. His only consolation was that the situation could not be absolutely dire if there was anything he could do to ameliorate it. The latest news he had seen was Jim’s smiling face on the front page of the morning’s paper, beaming at him from inside the cockpit of the rocket - the television newscasters appeared preoccupied with the ongoing conflict in Vietnam. Spock had heard some snippets of conversation on his way to and from his office, but he had detected no hint of trepidation or concern, only the remnants of the general euphoria from another successful launch.

He shoved open the door and stepped into the crowded room, perhaps even busier than it had been on the morning of the launch. This time, Spock did not linger in the back. Instead he maneuvered through the swarm of men hurrying to and fro between the rows of terminals, to the radio at the front of the room which served as the astronauts’ sole means of communication with Earth.

As Spock drew closer, he could distinctly make out Jim’s muffled voice over the din, giving his latest report on the situation. “All other systems appear normal. Scotty’s still working on fixing the navigation computer. While it’s offline, all controls are on manual.” He didn’t seem too pleased with the situation, but he sounded strikingly unperturbed by the danger he was in even though he no doubt knew it well. If the rocket deviated too far from its prescribed orbit, it would either plummet to the ground or veer off course entirely.

“Excuse me,” Spock interjected sharply, “I was instructed to report to Captain Kirk.”

The man at the radio stood and handed his headset over to Spock, who took his place by the console.

Spock did not dare delay. “Captain, I understand there has been some malfunction in the navigation computer.”

“Spock!” Beneath Jim’s enthusiasm, his voice cracked a little, betraying the strain that had apparently only been concealed, not absent. “Am I glad to hear you! I hope you’re good at giving directions.”

“If you provide me with your position and velocity, I can calculate the necessary adjustments to your trajectory,” Spock said. He only belatedly realized Jim had likely been attempting to make a joke, perhaps to lighten the mood.

He heard Jim take a somewhat uneven breath. “Good,” Jim said, and he read off the necessary values.

Spock acquired a notepad from one of the many men hovering around the radio and jotted down the numbers Jim had provided. “Please continue to report updated values at regular intervals so that I can monitor your movement.”

“Of course.” There was a brief pause on the other end before Jim asked, “Is there anything else I can do?”

“Unless you are capable of quickly calculating the thrust vector, I believe that is all for now. Once my calculations are complete, then it will be in your capable hands.”

“You’re right.” Jim seemed to hesitate once more. “I trust you.”

“Thank you, Jim.” Spock turned urgently to one of the men overseeing their conversation. “I require a calculator to check my calculations; bring Nyota Uhura. I expect she is in my office.”

“Sir-” the young man attempted to protest.

“She is the only individual whom I know to be equal to the task. Quickly! We cannot afford to delay.”

At last, the man turned and hurried from the room.

Meanwhile, Spock turned back to the notepad and, with a shaking hand, began scratching out the equations as quickly as he could.

Miss Uhura soon arrived, sat down with barely a word, and began running through the equations on her own. With her confirmation, Spock passed the first trajectory and throttle to Jim before immediately going on to calculate the next. 

Hardly a minute had passed before Jim exclaimed, “You’ve done it! We’re going back in the right direction.”

“Good.” Spock’s breath came easier now, but the danger was far from ended. “Your latest position and velocity?”

Spock and Uhura hastily used the information to determine the next trajectory and Spock communicated it to Jim.

Slowly but surely, the rocket returned to its desired orbit, with only occasional adjustments needed to maintain it.

Between reports, Jim remarked, “Spock, I should have known you’d be so cool under pressure. You should’ve been an astronaut.”

“As you are aware, I endeavor to restrain my emotions regardless of the circumstances. However, I have little desire to be one of the first men in space.”

“You’re missing out,” Jim teased - Spock could picture his smile, directed at Spock even from such a distance.

Spock raised an eyebrow at the suggestion, though he knew Jim could not see him.

“The stars are beautiful out here. I’ve never seen them so clearly, or the Milky Way. And I can make out other galaxies, millions of lightyears away.”

“I am certain it is an enlightening experience. However, as ‘cool’ as I may be, I would not disregard the danger that remains,” Spock cautioned.

“I knew the risks before I signed up for the job. It’s still worth it. Anyway,” Jim added more lightly, “thanks to you, we’ve got everything back under control.”

“I may be able to assist you in maintaining orbit, but it would be an entirely different matter to attempt re-entry without the navigation computer.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Hopefully Scotty will have the computer back up and running by then.”

“Yes. It appears there is nothing left to do but hope.”

For hours, they waited and hoped, ever so often adjusting the spacecraft’s trajectory, as Commander Scott worked to repair the navigation computer with guidance from Earth.

At long last, Jim declared, “We’re all clear and operating within normal parameters.”

Spock let out a breath of relief, even as he was dismissed from the radio.

As he stood in the back of the room, waiting for Jim, Commander Scott, and their superiors to come to a decision about the next course of action, Spock began to work out the trajectory for the descent just in case there was another malfunction.

However, he was unable to complete his calculations before an announcement was made; “Good work everyone! Thanks to all of your efforts, everything seems to be back in order. We’ll be keeping an eye on it, but Captain Kirk and Commander Scott have agreed that it would be a waste to ground them now. The mission will continue as planned!”

The other men cheered, but Spock remained stonily silent. He had no doubt that Jim had agreed to this course of action, if not suggested it himself; but by all logic it was a mistake, potentially a dire one. Their childish race with the Soviets was not so pressing that it was worth risking the lives of two sound men by leaving them in outer space in a malfunctioning spacecraft.

Spock went to confront the director. “With all due respect, sir-”.

The director cut him off with a wave. His tone was polite, but final. “Thank you for your service, Doctor. Without your help Captain Kirk and Commander Scott may not have lasted long enough to get the computer working again. You’ve done more than enough for one day. Go home and get some well-deserved rest.” He clapped Spock on the shoulder and another man swept in and took Spock’s place before the director.

Spock was wise enough to see that he had no say in the matter. He stepped out into the cool night air, found his car in its usual place in the parking lot, and drove back to his house, running back over the equations in his mind all the while.

The house was quiet and dark when he arrived. Only once he was inside did he perceive the dim light in the living room where Trisha was sitting, reading over a glass of wine. She barely glanced up at his arrival, but Spock had no objection - he might as well have been a stranger entering another man’s home in his place.

He had walked past the doorway to the living room, with some intention of continuing to review the calculations on paper, when suddenly Trisha called out from behind him, “What’s wrong?”

Spock stopped and turned to face her. She had stepped out into the hall, her long, ornate robe brushing against the floor.

“You look like- like someone’s died. Did something happen?” Trisha sounded worried. She regarded him warily, but her voice was softer than Spock had heard it in a long time.

“No one has died.”

She put her hands on her hips. “Then what did happen?”

“There was a malfunction in the rocket’s navigation computer.”

“Oh.” For reasons he could not begin to comprehend, she appeared disappointed by the revelation. “Your astronaut friend wasn’t on board, was he?” she asked too lightly - even he could hear that it was forced.

“Jim? Yes.”

“And what if I was up there? What would you feel then?” she demanded with surprising vitriol. Her voice wavered with unrestrained emotion.

“You misunderstand. I have no feelings now, nor would I, were the places changed. Any concern I may exhibit is of a professional nature.” He tried to steady his shaking hands, clasped firmly together behind his back.

Trisha scoffed. “No, you’re not fooling me. I’ve seen what you’re like when you don’t feel anything and I can tell you right now, this isn’t it.”

She glared at him, her eyes unnaturally bright. She seemed to be torn between bursting into tears and punching him - her hands were already clenched into fists. And then the moment passed; she turned away and took a long, unsteady breath.

She gave him a final pleading look.

Spock could only watch her as though from a great distance.

Her expression hardened and she turned away. “I’m going to bed.”

Spock watched her go, frozen where he stood like a stone statue, barely even breathing.

The door shut with a thud behind her. Only then did he go to the kitchen, sit down at the table, and bend over his notepad. He scrawled equation after equation, trying to calculate the trajectory for an emergency manual landing in the event the computer malfunctioned again and there was not enough fuel to wait for it to be repaired....

He awoke the next morning to the early light streaming in through the kitchen window. His whole body ached from spending the night at the table, and he had not slept well, but he could not delay in returning to the space center.

* * *

The remainder of the long week passed slowly. Spock counted down the hours until the astronauts’ return along with the clock in mission control. Finally, the morning arrived - bedraggled and late as far as Spock was concerned, but present.

“‘Morning, Spock,” Jim greeted him over the radio, his voice garbled, but remarkably cheerful and plainly his own. “How’s Houston?”

“Satisfactory,” Spock replied tersely. “I have the latest trajectories for your re-entry.”

“Fire away. I never thought I’d say it, but I think I’ll be happy to be back on solid ground, at least for a little while.”

“You are not alone in that sentiment.”

Once Spock had dutifully reported the results of his calculations, he was removed from the radio and another man bearing some other piece of essential information took his place.

It was a slow process. Spock returned to the back of the room as final reports were conveyed and essential equipment was tested. He ran through the equations in his mind, searching for any mistake that could have possibly been overlooked. He had been over them so many times he could recite all of the numbers from memory. They were so ingrained in his mind that if any mistake had been made, it was doubtful he would detect it now.

At last, the Public Affairs Officer announced over the radio, “Apollo Control, Houston here. We have had no additional conversation since our last report from the crew, apparently they are settled down in their couches waiting for the re-entry.” And then, there was only static.

Spock waited in silence. The men around him monitored the latest readings and performed their final checks in preparation for the descent. Everything had been accounted for many times over, but no matter how many times they checked, a mistake could still be made or overlooked. There would always be infinitely many contingencies and chance occurrences left unaccounted for.

And then Jim’s voice flickered back in over the radio; “Separation of the Command Module and Service Module confirmed. Going into manual now. Calculations looking good.”

He made regular reports as he began to maneuver the craft according to Spock’s calculations. As Jim made each adjustment to their trajectory, Spock attempted to retrace the math in his mind, but even if he uncovered a mistake, by the time he realized it, it would already be too late.

All Spock could do was monitor their trajectory on the graph projected at the front of the room. So far, it showed only a shallow incline, but each second their descent grew steeper as they fell out of orbit and plummeted toward the Earth.

“We’re getting close. No turning back now,” Jim declared.

“Old mother Earth’s got us in her gravity alright,” Commander Scott concurred with some gift for understatement.

“She’s beautiful though. Glowing.” Jim’s voice, garbled though it was, reflected no fear or concern, just awe at the sight of the light reflecting off of the upper atmosphere, as though he was not, at that very moment, suspended in a small, fragile capsule, hurtling toward the ground at unfathomable speeds. For an instant, Spock almost regretted that he was not there, at Jim’s side, to see it for himself.

“The airglow does make her look awfully radiant.”

“It’s getting hazy out there, not just from the airglow.”

“That would be the sunrise,” Commander Scott informed him.

“Really?”

“I’d say so.” Commander Scott sounded amused.

“I’ve never seen it this bright.” More seriously, Jim asked, “Coming up on .05 G’s?”

Spock’s hands tightened as he readied himself for the final descent. He could feel the gravity building up around him, though he logically knew he was standing safely on the ground.

“Just about. We’re at .02 G’s now. .03.” A moment passed. “.05!”

“We’ve got it! Hang on!”

“It’s building up! We’ve got 1 G already.”

There was a sudden rush on the radio as the rocket took a steep dive.

“5 G’s!” Commander Scott called out, his voice nearly drowned out by the static. “6! She’s holding in there-”

The radio cut off.

The room was filled with the sound of men reading off figures and conveying reports, all under the even narration from the Public Affairs Officer. Spock counted down the seconds until the radio blackout was expected to end. Just three minutes, but it seemed to stretch on for much longer, as though time dilated around him. It was much too easy to envision the immense pressure Jim was under in the capsule as the gravity rose to just under 7 G’s and its exterior threatened to burn up in the atmosphere.

The graph of their decline projected on the far wall showed a sharp drop into the atmosphere. And then, it leveled out only 35 miles from the ground and skipped a little, into a brief ascent.

The worst was hypothetically over, but still, seconds ticked by. Spock’s heart hammered in his chest.

“Just like a rollercoaster.” Jim’s voice sounded over the radio, cool as you please.

“No rollercoaster I’ve ever been on,” Commander Scott retorted.

“Good work, everyone,” Jim said, and Spock could hear that he was still smiling.

At last, some of the tension coiled around Spock’s chest loosened.

* * *

The next morning, Spock went in to work early. The halls that would soon be bustling with activity were still quiet, the few men and women Spock passed, tired and subdued. However, he found his office door already unlocked even though he knew he had not forgotten to lock it the night before. He tentatively turned the handle and pushed open the door. Inside the room was empty - aside from a lone man standing by the chalkboard.

“Jim!” Spock shouted. He struggled to school his expression.

Jim glanced over and his face broke into a smile known for its disarming radiance that had bewitched many a woman despite giving every indication that he was up to no good. “Spock, there you are! I was starting to worry you’d never arrive.”

Spock could only watch as Jim made his way across the room to meet him. “This is a most unexpected pleasure,” Spock said.

Jim’s eyes flashed with mischief, and he gazed at Spock with nearly overwhelming intensity. His features were remarkably expressive, shifting with every thought and feeling - his voice on the radio had made for a poor substitute. “It’s good to see you too,” Jim said at last, letting his words linger.

“Yes.” Spock took the opportunity to give Jim a sweeping glance. He looked largely the same as he had before he departed, happier perhaps, more comfortable. “You appear to be no worse for the experience,” Spock acknowledged.

Jim’s smile seemed to soften. “Thank you for helping me out up there. There’s nothing quite like being suspended in orbit miles from the surface and discovering that our way back down is broken. I couldn’t forget the feeling if I tried.”

“And yet you elected to stay and complete the mission.” Spock forced his voice level; it was a question, not an accusation.

Jim nodded. “The funny thing about it was after that, nothing else could possibly be so daunting. If we could make it with a malfunctioning navigation computer, we could survive anything.” He raised a hand to preempt the protest that was already on the tip of Spock’s tongue. “Not literally anything, but close enough.”

“That is highly irrational thinking. If the navigation computer had failed again you may have been forced to attempt a manual re-entry.”

“We knew the risks. We all agreed it was worth it to do everything we could while we were already up.” Jim looked Spock firmly in the eye, brooking no argument. Spock could not help but be struck by his conviction.

“The danger-” Spock attempted to argue, but he could find no logical objection.

“We made it out alright, didn’t we? And I never thought I’d say it, but it’s good to be back on the ground.”

“I gather it was not the risk that changed your mind?”

“No. There were some moments, when the radio was quiet, and it was just us and the stars, and it was perfect. Before I went up I thought I might want to stay like that forever, but then I thought of you and suddenly it seemed lonely out there - a nice place to visit, but not to stay.”

“Jim” - Spock wasn’t sure what to say.

Jim merely smiled, his inexplicable regard for Spock as clear as the sun on a cloudless day.

Eventually, Jim said, “I’m afraid I’ve got to run. They’ve got me booked solid for the next couple days celebrating our success. I just wanted to see you first.”

“Your presence is a welcome surprise.”

“Good. See you at dinner later this week.”

“Yes, I will see you then.”

Spock watched Jim go, his heart beating frantically in his chest. His jaw ached from warring to keep his expression neutral, but the rest of him felt lighter than air, as though he had left Earth’s gravity behind. The physical reminder of Jim’s presence, the certainty of his safety, abruptly relieved all of the tension that had been building over the past week.

And as his mind slowly cleared, Spock observed his jittering hands and struggling lips, and could only come to one conclusion. All of his years of diligent practice, the layers upon layers of careful control, had all come to naught because of his concern for a single man. It was fear that he had felt roiling in his chest when he discovered that Captain Kirk was in danger, and now he was left reeling from the elation of his return to Earth.

His relief gave way to a drowning sensation of defeat. For all his efforts, he was just as subject to the whims of emotion as any man. He could feel tears stinging at his tired eyes as he struggled to regain control, but it had already slipped through his fingers. Jim- Captain Kirk was safe, but still his emotions raged on, pounding at his temples, threatening to break free. His fists clenched with a violence he had not known himself capable of; frustration rose like bile in his throat. He was no different from the angry masses that had rampaged in the streets so long ago.

But he did not shout, or cry, or laugh.

He forced his fists open and stretched out his aching fingers. He opened his eyes and blinked against the bright electric light. With an unconscious noise of disgust, he brushed away the tears from under his eyes. His gaze fixed ahead, he squared his shoulders and made his way back to the blackboard. If he had to start again from the beginning, so be it. He had done it once; he would do it again, and this time he would not make the same mistake.

With an unsteady hand, Spock raised a piece of chalk to the blackboard and began to write.

* * *

Spock returned home exhausted at the end of the day. It had been a long day. He had experienced more emotions than he could count and attempted with little success to cut them off as they appeared. It was like fighting a fire in dry grass; each time a flame sprung up, he stamped it out, only for the embers to start another. In the end, he only succeeded in wearing himself out.

But there was no logic in being irritated by what was past and therefore out of his control. For all he had lost that day, some progress had been made - if his awareness could be called that. Now that his eyes were clear, he could see emotions everywhere, in his every response, but awareness was the first step toward control. He clung to his rationality desperately, but it was the only weapon he had.

He took a deep breath and swung open the front door.

The hall was dark, but he could see a yellow light emanating from behind the closed bedroom door and could make out the distant sound of Trisha’s voice. He had returned early - after a solitary dinner, even the numbers had begun to make his head swim, and so he had no choice. He did not dare go into the bedroom. Instead he fell onto the sofa in the dark living room. He knew better than to drink. Instead, he merely sat on the edge of the couch, his head in his hands. He could envision Jim sitting next to him in the dim light, watching him with those open, inviting eyes. He wondered bitterly what Jim would think of him now.

He barely noticed the conversation in the other room coming to an end or the muffled sound of approaching footsteps - at some point, he may have begun to doze where he sat. “What happened to you?” Trisha asked, her voice sharp and loud in the quiet night, torn between pity and disgust.

He shot her a glare before he could stop himself. He forced himself to sit upright, his spine perfectly straight, his expression flat.

“Your astronaut friend made it back fine - he was all over the news.”

“I am aware,” Spock snapped.

Her expression faltered. She took a step closer. “What’s gotten into you?”

He closed his eyes and took a long breath to steady himself. He was behaving irrationally. When his eyes opened again, he answered evenly, “It has come to my attention that despite my efforts, I continue to be subject to emotion, a failure which I have been attempting to rectify.”

“Oh have you?” To his surprise, her features settled on a thin, sardonic smile. Trisha sat down gracefully on the other end of the sofa, composed and self-possessed. She poured herself a drink to nurse as she continued, “Maybe you’re right, maybe emotions aren’t all they’re cracked up to be - look at all the good my feelings have done me.” She stole a glance at Spock out of the corner of her eyes, her meaning clear.

He could only agree with her, even as he felt a pang of guilt for that which was beyond his control. “No, they have not served you well.”

She did not seem pleased with his observation, but her voice remained even. “Still, I can’t say I envy you. I know you’d never admit it, but I’ve seen how lonely you are.”

He raised an eyebrow at her in disbelief.

She just shook her head, lost in her own thoughts. “Neither of us ever had many friends, even when we were kids, but there you were, fresh off the boat and so aloof, unfeeling, of course no one else had the guts to talk to you. I wasn’t much more than a wallflower back then myself, but I like to think I’ve grown up a little. Somehow you’ve just stayed the same, afraid to let yourself feel a thing. You’ll never really be able to get rid of your emotions you know.”

“I have succeeded once, I will succeed again,” he insisted, with more force than he knew was necessary.

She waved it off. “You never succeeded at anything. I used to pine over your sad eyes, you know,” she said. Her words grew sharper as she spoke. “But you must be heartless to do what you’ve done to me. You could have at least tried to be a loving husband.”

Spock let out a breath that came dangerously close to a sigh. He was tired, his temples ached, but he refused to falter. “I do not deny the consequences of my actions, but I maintain that my decision was correct.”

“Correct for who?” she demanded. “You sure haven’t done me any favors and I don’t know if I’ve seen you happy a day in your life.”

“The so-called ‘positive’ emotions are no better than their ‘negative’ counterparts.”

“That’s a load of nonsense, and you know it!” Her voice fell - “What’s the harm in having a little happiness?”

“All emotion is antithetical to reason.”

She just shook her head, leaned forward and took a long sip, until her glass was nearly empty.

“Did you ever love me?” she asked after a long silence, still staring into the dregs.

“I am incapable of loving anyone.”

“I thought that too, but apparently I was wrong.” Trisha stood, downed the rest of her drink, and left Spock alone to his thoughts.

* * *

Some days later, Spock sat in the space center mess hall toward the end of dinner. He had expected Captain Kirk to arrive half an hour ago, but he still had yet to appear. It was to be expected; the astronaut was a busy man, especially so now that he had actually gone into outer space. However, Spock found the sinking sensation of disappointment difficult to dispel.

He ate as slowly as he could in an attempt to linger even though there was no logical reason to delay - they both had work to do. It was regretful that he would miss the opportunity to engage Captain Kirk in what would no doubt have been an intellectually stimulating conversation, but they would have countless other opportunities. The captain was presumably occupied with some other more important engagement and had merely been prevented from informing Spock.

He glanced up at the sound of approaching footsteps, expecting yet another engineer hurrying to a belated dinner. But to his surprise, there was Jim, looking somewhat harried, but otherwise as impeccable as ever. He even paused to smile at Spock on his way to the line to get what food remained.

Spock felt his lips begin to twitch upward in response and forced his expression straight.

He put aside his fork and knife and waited for Jim to return. His heart rate was somewhat elevated, but otherwise he felt calm; his emotions were no longer so difficult to tame. Perhaps there was some underlying feeling of happiness, but if there was he merely pushed it aside.

“I’ve been on my feet all day,” Jim said as he slid into the seat across from Spock. “I don’t think I’ve had a bite to eat since this morning. Next time we’ll go somewhere a little nicer, as it is I could barely get away.”

“I have no objection. I was merely concerned you would be forced to forgo dinner altogether.”

“It was a close thing,” Jim said between bites. “But enough about me. How’s it been holding up the fort?” He met Spock’s eyes and held them with such incomprehensible intensity that Spock could not have looked away even if he desired to.

So, Spock did not look away. Instead, he firmly met Jim’s gaze as he answered, “Work in preparation for the upcoming launch has continued as usual in your absence - if I understand your meaning correctly.”

“You make it sound like it doesn’t make any difference whether I’m here or not,” Jim remarked with a teasing lilt and a wry smile.

Spock raised an eyebrow at him. “It is true that progress was generally unimpeded, however my own efficiency was diminished.”

Jim reached out and rested a hand on Spock’s forearm - the gentle, but firm weight was strangely reassuring. “I’m sure you were still the most efficient man in Houston.”

It was hyperbole, but Spock appreciated the compliment.

Jim’s smile slowly faded and his tone turned serious. “Has everything been alright?” he asked delicately. “Uhura said she’s been worried about you.”

“There is no cause for concern,” Spock replied, his voice as even as he could make it.

“I see.” Jim did not appear to be convinced, but thankfully he did not press the matter. The shadow soon vanished from his features and when he spoke again it was as though the small diversion had never occurred. “I’ve been so caught up with the launch, I’ve barely heard about your latest assignment.” He leaned in toward Spock with eager curiosity. His eyes seemed to shimmer with a most unusual light.

“It is a routine launch, but it has some points of interest.”

“Of course. They wouldn’t put their best man on the job without a reason.”

Another hyperbole, but it would be illogical for Spock to argue. “It is a particular expertise of mine.”

At Jim’s urging, Spock explained the particularities of the launch and they discussed his current difficulties with the calculations until the mess hall was nearly empty and the two of them were left almost entirely alone. Spock had few objections - the hours had been spent most productively - and Jim seemed likewise pleased with their progress. They were both reluctant to leave and return to their respective homes, but it was late and they both had work the next day.

They walked out to the parking lot in a companionable silence, their shoulders occasionally brushing together. It was a quiet, humid night, as was typically the case in Houston. They paused approximately halfway between their vehicles to say goodbye. Spock expected Jim’s eyes to be fixed upon the stars - it was an ideally clear night - but instead for some unfathomable reason it was Spock that commanded his attention. He was smiling at Spock; he seemed to radiate emotion that Spock could not begin to identify. It threatened to kindle some answering feeling of his own, which was hastily quelled.

“Good evening, Jim,” Spock said at last, reluctant to break the silence despite the late hour.

Jim looked somewhat disappointed, but it did not manage to dampen his smile. “Good night, Spock,” he said. Each word seemed to be laden with some deeper meaning, if only Spock could grasp it.

“I will see you next week,” Spock confirmed.

“Of course!”

“Good.”

When Spock could see no more reason to delay, he gave Jim a final nod and took his leave.

* * *

One week and two days later, Spock pushed open a pair of glass doors into a crowded restaurant. He stepped into a large, high ceilinged room, divided into black velvet booths, and illuminated with a kaleidoscope of light reflecting off a row of crystal chandeliers. Drifting over the sound of polite conversation and laughter, he could make out ethereal strains of a Chopin nocturne. It was a more ostentatious setting than their usual fare; fitting for a belated celebration of Jim’s successful launch.

Spock had arrived seventeen minutes prior to their arranged time, but Jim was already there, engaged in casual conversation with the maitre d’. He was leaning against the podium, the very image of easy confidence, speaking with the man as though it were the most natural thing in the world. Spock had found that Jim possessed a certain charismatic charm that enchanted everyone around him.

Jim glanced over as the doors swung shut behind Spock and beckoned him over. “You look good,” he said with a fleeting touch to Spock’s arm.

“Thank you. As do you,” Spock replied in kind - it was only logical to speak the truth.

Jim smiled, almost looking as though he had won some victory.

Spock’s chest constricted at the sight and he felt a sort of buoyant warmth. It was not an unpleasant sensation, nor was it a rational response. He attempted to rein in his emotions as he followed Jim to their table. Jim had chosen well; somewhat secluded, ideal for an intellectually stimulating discussion.

Once they were seated, Spock raised his glass. “A toast to your successful launch.” He felt some lingering displeasure at the memory of it, but he pushed the feeling aside. Still, he added, “And to your successful return.”

Jim raised his own glass. “It wouldn’t have been possible without your calculations.”

Spock inclined his head in appreciation and they both drank.

“Good choice,” Jim remarked, taking another sip of his wine.

“Thank you, I expected it would be to your liking.”

Jim leaned in toward Spock. “You’ve really outdone yourself” - he glanced out at the restaurant, but his gaze quickly returned to Spock. “Didn’t miss me too much, I hope?”

Spock’s lips twitched downward at the suggestion, but he quickly righted his expression. “I endeavor not to experience emotion.”

“Of course. Only logical appraisal of the situation.”

“That is very kind of you,” Spock said, but it was not the truth. He hesitated to admit the reality, but it was not rational to lie. At last, he elaborated, “I endeavor not to experience emotion, but it has recently come to my attention that I have not been entirely successful.”

“Really?” Jim betrayed no judgement, only surprise and a gentle smile.

It emboldened Spock to continue, though his reluctance did not fade, “Yes. I experienced fear and worry in your absence and happiness upon your return, and since I have observed the occurrence of many other emotions over the course of my ordinary routine. I must rebuild from the ground up.” He straightened out the beginnings of a frown.

Jim reached out a hand to rest it on Spock’s arm, perhaps to reassure him. “It was that bad?”

Spock nodded. “All of my efforts have come to nothing.”

“You still seem pretty stoic to me.”

Spock’s chest seemed to expand with pleasure at the compliment. He took a deep breath to restrain it. “It is not logical to employ flattery. Even your words were enough to elicit an emotional response.”

Jim hesitated. His smile faded a little. “Is it even possible? To get rid of all emotion?”

Spock recoiled a little in surprise. “Certainly. I have succeeded once and will do so again.”

“I see.” Again, Jim paused to compose his thoughts. “Is it really so bad - having feelings?”

“Emotion is antithetical to reason,” Spock insisted.

“I manage alright, don’t I?”

“I admit, you manage surprisingly well despite your embrace of emotion. However, that does not imply they are without deleterious effects.”

“Maybe it’s more a matter of what you do with them,” Jim suggested.

Spock raised an eyebrow in pointed disagreement. “It would be difficult to employ one’s emotions rationally when they cloud the very faculties one uses to decide how to act.”

At last, Jim conceded his point - “Maybe you’re right. I know you’ll figure it out.”

“Thank you, Jim.” Spock straightened his posture and regarded Jim, calm and self-possessed. “Have you been able to return to your usual work at the space center?”

“Finally. I’ve got a press trip coming up, but they already have me preparing for another launch.”

Spock nodded, keeping his emotions carefully under control.

“Don’t worry - I know, you wouldn’t - but they’ve assured me we won’t have any more trouble with the navigation computer.”

“Good.” Spock found it difficult to dispute Jim’s evident eager anticipation despite all of the accompanying dangers.

* * *

Spock returned home late that evening. The street was quiet, all the neighbors’ windows dark, and his own house was no exception. For the moment all was peaceful.

He unlocked the front door and stepped into the hall. The only light was the soft glow of the streetlamps outside filtering in through the windows, between the blinds. The rest of the house was dark, even the bedroom. He presumed Trisha was already asleep, but Spock found himself reluctant to join her. Instead, he trod quietly into the kitchen. The floorboards creaked under his feet, but Trisha did not stir. He heard not so much as a rustle coming from the other room as the high pitched crack faded into silence.

As he passed, he noticed a sheet of paper on the counter that had not been there when he left for work in the morning. To his surprise, it was a note from Trisha, hastily written, addressed to him. His eyes widened as he read and understood what it was saying. He read it twice to be certain and then the paper slipped from his hand and fluttered to the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything about Kirk's launch and all of the Public Affairs Officer's dialogue comes from NASA's [Apollo Flight Journal](https://history.nasa.gov/afj/), in particular the transcripts of the [launch](https://history.nasa.gov/afj/ap08fj/01launch_ascent.html) and [splashdown](https://history.nasa.gov/afj/ap08fj/28day6_maroon_splash.html) of Apollo 8. The description of the liftoff is based off of footage of the [Apollo 11 launch](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S3ufJ7lcr08).


	4. Re-entry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A small warning: at the end of this chapter, there is a brief issue with consent that is quickly dealt with and doesn't go very far.

Jim was lounging on the couch in his living room, flipping through  _ The Voyage of the Space Beagle _ , a nightcap on the table. He had gotten back from dinner late, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to go to bed, his heart still fluttering in his chest after such a wonderful evening with Spock. So, some light reading it was.

He was just starting to yawn when he was startled back into awareness by a series of quick, sharp knocks on the door. He could only wonder who was knocking at his door at this time of night, but whoever it was seemed pretty insistent, so he forced himself to his feet and went to answer it.

To Jim’s surprise, it was Spock standing on the threshold, still in the suit he had been wearing at dinner, but looking far from the composed, confident man he had been when Jim saw him off. The suggestion of an almost smug smile had been replaced by a wide-eyed, devastated expression.

Jim ushered Spock inside, helped him out of his coat, and led him to the couch. Spock made little attempt to protest. He sat perched on the edge of the couch, doubled over, his eyes staring into the distance, lost in thought. 

Jim poured Spock a drink and then sat down next to him, leaving just a few inches between them. Jim could only wonder what had happened in the interim, but he knew better than to ask.

Spock downed most of his glass before he found himself enough to speak. His eyes still fixed on the carpet, he spoke like a man in a trance, as though he was only partially aware that Jim was there; “Trisha is gone.”

“Gone?” Jim asked. He reached out and carefully put a hand on Spock’s shoulder.

“She left. She went back to New York - to her lover.”

Jim’s heart jumped in surprise, but it wasn’t really that much of a shock. He squeezed Spock’s shoulder in an attempt to convey some reassurance, but really, he didn’t know what to say.

Spock drained his glass and Jim poured him another. Spock seemed to consider the contents for a moment, but he didn’t drink.

“Thank you,” Spock said, his voice hoarse, looking at Jim for the first time since he arrived. There was something pleading in his gaze. “I did not know where else to go.”

“Of course,” Jim said without a thought. “Anything I can do.”

“I am most grateful.”

Jim hazarded a small smile. “Your company is its own reward.”

Spock shook his head. He looked down at his glass, staring into its depths. Again, his voice grew distant. “It was only logical for her to leave. I could not love her. I could never be a satisfactory husband.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Jim attempted. “Maybe she was just the wrong person.”

Spock fixed Jim with a glare. “I am not capable of love.”

Jim knew better than to argue with him about that. Instead, he rubbed circles into Spock’s shoulder with his thumb and hoped it was comforting.

Spock took another sip and some of the tension in his rigid frame seemed to relax a little.

Jim tried again; “She didn’t understand, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve better.”

Spock glanced back up at Jim, his eyes narrowed. “Better?” he asked, uncomprehending.

Jim smiled. “You don’t have to be alone.”

“It is impossible,” Spock insisted. He looked so lost.

Jim took Spock firmly by the shoulders - he reflexively straightened his back and turned to face Jim. They were just an arm’s length apart, their eyes locked onto each other as though they were alone in the galaxy.

Jim leaned in, and in a well practiced move he pressed their lips together. Jim took it slow. For a moment, Spock’s lips were frozen stiff against his own in shock.

And then, in an explosion of motion, Spock recoiled back and leaped to his feet. “My apologies, I must be going.” With that, he turned, and left the way he came.

Jim stared at the door as it shut behind him, momentarily stunned by the sudden turn of events.

Eventually, time seemed to move forward again. Jim let out a shaky breath and wiped his eyes. He turned back to the table and downed the remainder of Spock’s glass for fortification.

To no one, he remarked, “Well, that didn’t quite go to plan…”

* * *

Jim waited.

He had arrived at the mess hall just as it was beginning to empty, but well before Spock usually got there. He glanced up at the clock again; almost another five minutes had ticked by. He took another bite and slowly chewed, though he didn’t really taste it.

Spock was late. There was no getting around it. He was usually early, but today Jim still hadn’t seen heads or tails of him. It had been a whole long week since they last saw each other, plenty of time for Spock to think it all over, but maybe not.

Still, Jim waited. Five minutes turned to ten, and then half an hour, an hour...

It was getting late, even for them. What was left of Jim’s dinner had turned cold. He sat at the table, his head in his hand, staring past the dull grey double doors, waiting for them to swing open. At first, he thought Spock may have just been working a little late, engrossed in one of his equations, but even Jim had to admit it was sounding a little thin, maybe even desperate.

Finally, well past time any sensible man would have left, Jim stood and went back home.

* * *

“We were going to meet like usual the other night, but she never even showed,” Jim said with a shake of his head. He was sitting on the cot in Bones’s office, ostensibly for his regular physical.

“ _ She _ ,” was all Bones said, busy fiddling with his instruments.

Jim ignored him. “I know I shouldn’t have kissed her. I was so distracted by the fact that her husband was suddenly out of the picture that I forgot there was another reason we were taking it slow.”

“Maybe  _ she _ realized just how terrible an idea messing around like this is,” Bones exclaimed, unable to hold it in any longer. “Do you know what would happen to both of you if you got found out? You could say goodbye to being an astronaut, for starters. I hope she’s managed to knock some sense into you!”

Jim waved it off. “Bones, we both know the risks.”

“Do you?” Bones demanded.

“You know I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize my chance to go back out there.”

“That’s what I thought, but apparently you’re too busy messing around!”

“Not quite messing around.”

Bones shot him a glare.

“She deserves better.”

“And you can give  _ her _ anything better?”

Jim frowned. “At least I can give her love.”

Bones just shook his head. Finally, he seemed to resign himself to the reality he had been thrown into, willingly or otherwise. “Are you sure that’s what she wants? Doesn’t she not have emotions?”

“She knows she has them, but she doesn’t like it. I can’t entirely blame her. I just wasn’t thinking and spooked her, but I thought she’d be over it by now.”

“Did you?” Bones retorted, back to his usual self.

“We’ve been seeing each other for months, I thought she’d gotten used to it. But we have been taking it slow because of her husband and how she feels about those pesky emotions. I thought I just surprised her, but she’s taking it harder than I expected.”

“With a girl like that, I’m surprised you got her to give you a chance at all. Maybe she finally decided she’s had enough of all your feelings.”

Jim shook his head. “I can’t believe that. You haven’t seen the way her eyes light up. She came to me to help her and I just made things worse. It’s up to me to make it up to her.”

“You can try, but I doubt you’ll be happy with the result.”

* * *

Jim stood outside Spock’s door, a bouquet of flowers awkwardly concealed behind his back. He took a deep breath, steeled himself, and raised his free hand to knock. His heart pounded in his chest.

Seconds passed in silence. Then, he heard someone moving inside, steady footsteps growing louder as they approached. He couldn’t help but smile at the thought. He schooled his expression a little just in time for the door to swing open, revealing Spock, still dressed for work, complete with a tie.

Spock’s eyes widened a little in surprise. For a moment he looked like he was about to smile, but he quickly quashed that. “Captain Kirk, what are you doing here?”

Jim did smile and answered, “I wanted to see you.”

Spock’s lips twitched downward. He seemed uncertain.

“I brought something to brighten up the house.” Jim handed him the flowers.

Spock reluctantly accepted them and let Jim inside even as he said, “You should not have come.”

“Why not?” Jim insisted lightly.

Spock gave him a pleading look, an eyebrow raised in an attempt at disbelief.

“I know, I haven’t acted entirely logically,” Jim admitted.

Spock led him down the hall into the kitchen to get a vase for the flowers. “No, you have not” - he pulled no punches.

“I wanted to make it up to you.”

“I see.”

Spock set the vase, complete with flowers and a little water to keep them alive, on the table, and gestured into the living room.

Jim made himself comfortable on the sofa as Spock poured them each a glass. He had turned on the bright overhead light, taking away some of the ambiance that would have come from just using the dimmer lamps, but maybe it was for the best. At least Jim could see Spock clearly, his sharp features perhaps even keener than usual. He regarded Jim warily as he joined him on the sofa, a few feet away, and Jim didn’t push his luck.

They sat for a moment in silence. Jim sipped at his drink, watching Spock with a sidelong eye. Spock was more direct, his steady gaze fixed upon Jim, staring at him as though he was a particularly fascinating puzzle that was being particularly difficult to unravel. His gaze was piercing, but Jim didn’t mind it.

“Why?” Spock asked at last. “Why did you do it?”

Jim turned to face him. “Because I wanted to.”

“You wanted to?” Spock confirmed, as though he couldn’t begin to fathom such a thing.

“Of course. Who wouldn’t?” More seriously, Jim said, “I didn’t mean to push you. I was happy with things the way they were.”

Spock looked no less bewildered. “Then what did you intend to accomplish?”

Jim smiled. “Aside from just the pleasure of it, you mean?” He let out a sigh. “I wanted to show you that you don’t have to be alone.”

Spock’s eyes narrowed as he seemed to struggle to comprehend Jim’s answer. At last he reminded Jim, “I am not capable of love.”

Jim almost shook his head at the tired refrain. Instead, he said gently, “I know. I don’t mind.”

“You do not? What exactly do you want?”

“Want? It’d be nice to continue where we left off. Dinners, maybe some stargazing, maybe a little more…” Jim trailed off.

Spock frowned pointedly at the suggestion. “If anyone discovered this your career would be over. You would never be able to return to outer space.”

“We just have to be careful.”

“It is not worth the risk,” Spock insisted. He seemed startled by his own outburst.

Jim tentatively reached out and rested a hand on Spock’s forearm. “Isn’t it?”

Spock pushed it away. “This is highly irrational. You are allowing your feelings to cloud your reason.”

“Aren’t some things worth a little risk? What’s wrong with a little happiness?”

Spock hesitated. He stared down into his glass, as though the answers lay in its depths.

At last, Spock looked up and met Jim’s eyes once more. “Would such an… arrangement make you happy?”

Jim nodded. “You know I always enjoy your company.”

Spock glanced away again, and then back at Jim. “Your proposition is highly illogical, but I will consider it.”

Jim considered that a victory.

* * *

For days, Spock turned the matter over in his mind, arguing this way and that. At last, he went and found Jim in his barren office, reading a report that was quickly put aside upon Spock’s arrival.

“I do not intend to interrupt,” Spock attempted.

But, of course, Jim paid it no heed. “It’s nothing. What brings you to this part of town?”

Spock closed the door behind him and faced Jim, still standing as he had upon Spock’s arrival, now leaning against his desk.

“It is in regards to-” Spock began.

Jim nodded in understanding before Spock was forced to put it into words, but he made no move to speak.

“You are certain it will make you happy?” Spock confirmed.

“It will,” Jim insisted.

Spock tried one more time; “It is not logical to risk so much for a fleeting impression.”

“I know. I understand if you think it isn’t worth it.”

“Your wellbeing is of greater importance,” Spock said without hesitation. “And it is only rational to act to bring about the greatest happiness.”

Jim smiled, glowing, as though to prove that Spock had made the correct decision. “Dinner at the usual place?” he suggested casually.

Spock nodded in assent.

* * *

Spock tried to rein in his emotions, to calm his jittering heart and whirring mind, but his driving was erratic and his hands shook as he pushed open the door to the restaurant. It was a good choice for that evening; never too busy, and nice, but quiet and not excessively opulent, with very good food. Thankfully, Jim had not yet arrived, so Spock still had time to master himself as he waited at the table.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Jim said, jarring Spock out of his thoughts inevitably too soon.

“Not at all.” Spock made to stand, but Jim waved him back into his seat and joined him at the table.

“What looks good today?” Jim motioned toward the menu. He seemed remarkably comfortable, perpetually at ease. Of course such a common occurrence as a date - as this presumably was - would not be enough to unnerve him.

“I have not had a chance to peruse the menu.”

“Good - you didn’t get too bored.” Jim took one menu and passed the other to Spock. Their hands brushed together in what must have been an intentional maneuver, but could have been mistaken for entirely casual.

Spock’s heart pounded uncomfortably in his chest.

“Is everything alright?” Jim put the menu down and fixed Spock with the full intensity of his gaze, which suddenly seemed overwhelming.

Spock took a deep breath and attempted to steady his fraying nerves. His objective was a rational one; to maximize overall happiness. That was all. But still he found it to be daunting.

Jim reached out toward him in a familiar gesture, but abruptly seemed to think better of it and instead just rested his hand on the table, halfway between them.

Spock could not prevent his lips from twitching downward. He met Jim’s open, earnest gaze with some reluctance. “I fear I am not equal to the task which you have set me,” he admitted at last.

“What do you mean?” Jim exclaimed.

“It is only logical to do what I can to maximize your happiness, but I find myself at a loss as to how to further that end.”

To his surprise, Jim smiled. “Relax. You’re doing fine.” He hesitated and settled for giving Spock’s arm a gentle pat before withdrawing his hand once more.

“There is nothing you would like for me to do?”

Jim shook his head. “All I want is the pleasure of your company.”

“I see,” Spock said, but his vision was not entirely clear.

“Maybe your logic can help me figure out what to have for dinner. And then I want to hear all the latest news about that orbiter you’re working on.”

“If you are certain that is what you desire.”

It seemed unlikely, but Jim insisted, “I’d like nothing more.”

And so Spock did as he was bid.

* * *

Another evening, Jim and Spock stood outside the restaurant after dinner, preparing to part ways. They both had work the next morning, but despite that, Spock still found himself hesitant to return to that empty house. It was not a logical impulse and he did what he could to stave it off.

However, he was grateful when Jim suggested, “Want to come back to my place, maybe play a game of chess?”

“Certainly, if that is what you would like to do,” Spock said.

After a short drive, Jim welcomed Spock into his home. He switched on the light as they stepped inside, illuminating the spartan living room and chasing the shadows into the further reaches of the kitchen. The last time Spock had been there, it was not exactly a pleasant visit, but there was no reason for that to have any bearing on the present.

“Have a seat” - Jim gestured toward the sofa.

Spock obliged as Jim went to retrieve an old chessboard from the bookcase, dusty from disuse.

“I’m a little rusty,” Jim admitted, laying the board out on the coffee table. “I used to play with my brother, but it’s been ages.”

“I have also not had the occasion to play in some years, but I believe I remember the basic principles.”

Jim shot him a disarming smile. “Maybe you’ll remind me.”

“I will endeavor to do so.” Spock hesitated. “However, are you certain this is a suitable activity for a date?”

“Unless there’s something else you’d rather do.” There was a suggestion in Jim’s tone that Spock was not entirely certain he was deciphering correctly.

“Only if you would prefer an alternative passtime.”

“Not at all,” Jim said, and he appeared to be entirely genuine. “I’ve been looking forward to having a chance to play you.”

“Then by all means.” Spock gestured for Jim to claim his pieces.

Unsurprisingly, Jim took black and handed Spock the white - “You’re the guest.”

“If you insist.”

“I do.”

They set up the board in silence and then the game began. Spock found Jim to be an intriguing, formidable opponent. Spock played as logically as he could and expected his opponent to do the same, but somehow Jim always managed to do whatever Spock least expected, with a clever, wry smile. He wished the game could have gone on. As it was, he barely had the chance to guess at Jim’s strategy, but finally, after many twists and turns, Jim sidled up to his king and claimed victory.

Hours had passed while they were engrossed in the game.

“Good game,” Jim said, stifling a yawn, and reached out a hand to shake.

Spock took Jim’s hand with both of his own. “Yes, you were an excellent opponent.”

Jim smiled, almost shyly. “You weren’t too bad yourself.”

Spock inclined his head in acknowledgement. Belatedly, he remembered he was still holding Jim’s hand and hastily relinquished it. Jim only appeared amused.

“You alright getting back on your own at this hour? I can escort you home if you like,” Jim said, though Spock could not tell if the offer was serious or a joke.

Spock shook his head. “I will be fine. Thank you.” He reluctantly stood to leave.

Jim followed suit. Somehow they ended up standing with only a foot or so between them, possibly less. Jim’s eyes seemed to shine like the stars. “Thank you for a lovely evening. You really know how to show a fellow a good time.”

“It is only logical-” Spock stopped mid-sentence and hesitated. “It is convention to end a date with a kiss,” he said awkwardly.

Jim shrugged. “Only if you want to.”

“Do you want me to?”

Jim grinned. “I couldn’t say no.”

Spock narrowed his eyes in uncertainty. “That is to say yes?”

Jim nodded. He took Spock by his upper arms, drawing him a few inches closer.

Very slowly, Spock leaned in and lowered his head slightly, until their lips pressed together. Spock’s heart seemed prepared to leap out of his chest and as he pulled away his lips tingled in a most peculiar way. He resisted the urge to draw his hand to his lips to evaluate the sensation further.

“Good night, Jim,” Spock said at last, feeling somewhat dazed, as though he had become lighter than air.

Jim smiled back, perhaps more brightly than ever. “Good night.”

Spock was surprised he did not trip over his own feet as he made his way out the door and back to his car.

* * *

Some weeks later, Jim stopped by Spock’s office toward the end of the day and suggested, “Dinner?”

“Certainly,” Spock replied with a subtle smile. He still seemed a little uncertain, a little stiffer than usual, but each time Jim saw him he seemed more like himself.

Jim casually leaned against his desk as Spock jotted down a few last minute notes and gathered some files into an old, well kept briefcase. The result of a hard day’s work lay scrawled out before him on a large chalkboard, covered from top to bottom in almost indecipherable equations, all written in a steady, precise hand that could only belong to the man beside him.

Spock had finished gathering his things and was watching Jim. He raised a questioning eyebrow as Jim turned to face him, as though to ask what he made of it all.

“Had a productive day, I see,” Jim remarked.

“Adequately so,” Spock acknowledged. “How was your day?”

“Adequate,” Jim answered with a grin. They made their way past the few remaining calculators still writing away at their desks. “Mostly meetings, though I got to take one of the new jets for a spin this afternoon. You’re welcome to join me next time.”

“I appreciate the offer, but if it is all the same to you, I believe I will remain on the ground.”

“Suit yourself - it’s your loss.”

Jim ushered Spock out the door, an arm around his shoulders, and they strode through the halls side by side, eagerly chatting about their work.

As they passed by Jim’s office, he noticed Janice still at her desk, and greeted her with a smile and a wave. “They better not be working you too hard” - Jim gestured toward her boss’s door.

“No,” Janice said, not quite smiling. “Just wrapping up for the day. But isn’t it early for you to be heading out? Going to see another woman?”

“Not tonight.” Jim glanced over at Spock, who was standing silently behind him, watching the exchange with a raised eyebrow. “You’ve met Dr. Spock.”

She nodded. “Well, if you’re here to ask me to dinner, you’re out of luck. I’ve got plans tonight.”

“So do we, but I’d love to see you another evening.”

“Would you?” she demanded, her hands on her hips.

“Of course.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“You know where to find me.” He tipped his hat to her and then he and Spock continued on their way.

After a moment or two of walking in silence, Jim glanced over at Spock with some intention of resuming their previous conversation, but he found Spock looking less than pleased, his eyes narrowed and his forehead creased in thought. Jim knew better than to ask - it was only a matter of time before Spock would make his troubles known.

Once they were out in the dark, empty parking lot outside the office building, before they went to their separate cars, Spock stopped and asked quietly, sounding rather uncertain, “You were flirting with Miss Rand?”

It wasn’t what Jim expected, but he took it in stride. “You could say that.”

“You have a romantic interest in her?”

Jim shrugged. “We go out sometimes.”

Spock hesitated. He looked troubled. “What is it that I have neglected to do?”

“What do you mean?”

“I was not aware there was some need of yours that I had failed to meet. I will endeavor to rectify it at once.”

“Spock” - Jim reached out and rested a hand on Spock’s arm - “you’re not failing to do anything. You know there’s nothing I like more than seeing you.”

“Why else would it be necessary for you to ‘go out’ with Miss Rand?”

“It’s not necessary. I go out with her because I want to, because I like it. Just like I enjoy going out with you.”

Spock still looked unconvinced.

“I thought you didn’t mind me seeing women - aside from the damage to my faculty of reason. Why the sudden change of heart?”

“Is it not my duty to ensure your happiness? Clearly I have failed if you are seeking other company.”

“Just because I’m seeing you doesn’t mean I no longer have any reason to talk to Bones,” Jim attempted.

“It is not the same,” Spock insisted.

“Isn’t it?” Jim patted Spock’s arm reassuringly. “Don’t worry, you’re doing fine. Anyway, if I’m still seeing Janice, it’ll be less likely anyone will suspect there’s anything up with you and I.”

Spock hesitated. “I suppose that is a reasonable precaution.”

“Exactly.”

“And if you are certain you are content, then I have no cause for objection.”

Jim stepped in toward Spock and leaned a little closer, so their faces were mere inches apart. “I’m more than content.”

“Good,” Spock said stiffly.

* * *

“I don’t understand it,” Jim said.

Bones glanced up from the results of Jim’s latest check up.

“She was fine with me seeing other women before, but all of a sudden now she’s not so sure.”

“I don’t see why not,” Bones retorted, putting down the papers. “You only ruined her marriage and now that conquest’s done, you’ve moved on to the next.”

“You know it’s not like that!”

“Does she know that?” Bones let out a sigh. “Jim, what are you really after?”

Jim tried to shrug the lingering defensive tension off his shoulders. “I’m not after anything, and I’m not throwing her aside or anything. Nothing’s changed. She just suddenly decided she didn’t like me seeing anyone else. I convinced her it was only rational, but I can tell she’s not entirely happy with it.”

“I can’t say I blame her.”

“Thanks.”

“How would you feel if your wife left you for another man, and then when you started seeing someone else, it turned out she was cheating on you too.”

“I’m not cheating on her - it’s not a secret, for one.”

“From what you said, her husband’s affair wasn’t a secret either.”

“It’s not like that, and you know it.”

Bones crossed his arms over his chest. “What is it like then?”

Jim hesitated. “I actually care about her, for one, and I can tell she cares about me too, despite her stoic philosophy.”

“Apparently.”

“Anyway, it’s safer this way. It would be suspicious if I suddenly stopped seeing Janice.”

“Yes, God forbid you actually make a reasonable decision for once.”

Jim swatted away the insult. “You know what I mean.”

“Yes, of all your ridiculous ideas to get involved with” - Bones stopped his grumbling short of incriminating Jim.

“What I don’t understand,” Jim continued, “is why she suddenly minds. Nothing’s changed. If anything, we’ve gotten closer. But suddenly she’s obsessed with whether or not I’m satisfied with our relationship.”

“As bad as her marriage was, it still can’t be easy for it to end like that,” Bones pointed out.

“Maybe you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right.” Bones picked back up the report and gave it another cursory glance. “Doesn’t look like there’s anything physically wrong with you.”

Jim got to his feet. “Thanks, Bones.”

Bones fixed Jim with a piercing look. “Be careful. People are more fragile than you think.”

* * *

There was a natural lull in the conversation. Spock found that Jim paradoxically often said more in silences than in words. Now, there was something unreadable about his smile, perhaps not as wide as it had been earlier, but still warm and inviting with perhaps a trace of mischief - he was no doubt well aware of everything they were not supposed to be doing. Still, it managed to put Spock’s mind at ease - there was at least some indication he was doing something right.

They were sitting very close together on the couch in Jim’s living room, Jim’s arm across Spock’s shoulders and his body angled so they could more easily face each other, bringing them closer still. Spock could almost feel Jim’s body heat radiating off of him. He found it surprisingly comfortable.

Jim’s gaze flickered down to Spock’s lips and back up to meet his eyes. There was some eagerness in Jim’s expression. Spock swallowed reflexively.

He pushed aside his uncertainty and asked, “You intend to indicate that you would like me to kiss you?”

Jim smiled. “You could say that.”

Spock obliged and their lips pressed softly together. Jim leaned in further to deepen the kiss, moving his lips in ways Spock could not begin to decipher, but which he had found were not altogether unpleasant. He felt a steady warmth in his chest, encouraged by the perception of Jim beside him, barely inches away.

Jim pulled away breathless, but smiling. Spock leaned a little closer, suddenly aware of the slight increase in the distance between them - clearly Jim wanted the proximity, after all.

Jim eagerly closed the distance with another kiss, his hands on Spock’s waist, the repetitive motion of his fingers strangely soothing.

Jim’s hand drifted down to Spock’s thigh. His touch suddenly seemed abrasive against the overly sensitive skin. Spock’s chest constricted, he found himself gasping for air. It was all too much.

Without even realizing what he was doing, Spock pushed away and stumbled to his feet. “Enough,” he said, his voice too loud. His heart hammered in his chest and he was breathing much too fast. He could feel his eyes wide with something like fear.

Jim slowly stood to mirror him, his features clouded with concern. He reached out a hand toward Spock’s shoulder, but clearly thought better of it. “Spock, what’s wrong?”

Spock struggled to catch his breath. Perhaps this was what it felt like to be a wild animal, instinctively alert, ready to run or fight, but no wild animal would have responded as he had to such overtures. He tried to rein in his emotions, to slow his pounding heart, but as his rationality returned so did the knowledge of his failure.

He sunk back down onto the couch. His whole body ached, wracked with tension as it was, but he could not relax.

He felt the couch shift as Jim sat down beside him, a foot or two away. Jim said nothing, no doubt waiting for an explanation that Spock could not offer. Spock had warned Jim that he was ill-equipped to provide for his happiness, and now it had come to fruition. Spock fought to restrain the turbulent emotion building up behind his eyes, a crushing pressure he could not begin to dissect - or perhaps did not want to.

He let out a long, shaky breath.

“I must apologize,” Spock said without looking up - he could not bring himself to face Jim, not now. “I could not-” he stopped himself short, unable or perhaps unwilling to fill in the words.

Jim seemed to hesitate. “I shouldn’t have rushed you.”

Spock hazarded a glance at Jim.

He gave Spock a rueful smile. “You’d think I’d’ve learned the first time.”

Spock inclined his head. “I am not capable of providing for your happiness.”

“Spock,” Jim reproached him. “I wouldn’t go that far. I just assumed- But there isn’t any rush.”

Spock sat upright, shaking even as he tried to push aside his illogical fears. “You misunderstand,” he said, his voice again too loud, “I am not capable of it.”

Jim recoiled a little at the outburst, but he seemed to recover quickly. “What do you mean?” he insisted.

“I am not and have never been capable of love. Even before I learned to rid myself of all emotion, I never felt its pull. Even though it is only logical to maximize your happiness, my body and mind revolt against it. I could not be a satisfactory husband and I am not capable of being a satisfactory lover.”

Again, Jim hesitated, looking at Spock as though he was struggling to comprehend the meaning behind his words.

“I have failed you,” Spock admitted, his voice low, and stood to leave.

“Wait!” Jim exclaimed.

Spock stopped.

Jim hastily withdrew the hand clutching Spock’s arm. “Don’t I get to decide if you’re ‘satisfactory’ or not?”

Spock gestured for him to proceed and pass his judgement.

“Sit down,” Jim insisted.

Spock obliged.

“Going out for dinner, walking along the lake, stargazing, that was all more than satisfactory already. Everything else was just a bonus.”

“You mean to say you would be satisfied with a platonic relationship?” Spock confirmed.

Jim seemed taken aback. “Is that how you saw our relationship? Just a series of casual outings?”

Spock struggled to comprehend the accusation in Jim’s tone. “Until you expressed your desire for something more,” he attempted.

Jim just shook his head and dismissed Spock’s confusion with a wave. “If that’s what you want, then it’s fine with me.” He hesitated. “But I was under the impression that you did enjoy our dates - or was that just to further my happiness too?”

It was Spock’s turn to hesitate. “My own enjoyment is irrelevant,” he attempted.

Jim met Spock’s eyes, allowing for no argument. “No, it isn’t.”

Spock’s protest died on the tip of his tongue. No matter how clear his logic, he could tell that Jim would not accept it. And his heart still raced in his chest, reminding him of his own limits.

“Think it over,” Jim suggested. “I’d be happy just seeing you in the mess hall if that’s all you’re comfortable with, though of course I’m open to more.”

Spock gave a shaky nod.

They both stood. Jim awkwardly clasped Spock’s shoulder, before Spock took his leave.


	5. Landing

“Mind if I join you?” Jim asked.

“Knock yourself out,” Bones said.

Jim pulled up a chair at the small table that Bones had claimed in a quiet corner of the bar. For a moment, he just leaned back and tried to relax, though he could feel Bones watching him, not even pretending to withhold judgement.

“So she got tired of you messing around?” Bones asked at last.

Jim took a large gulp of his drink and set the glass back down on the table. Finally, he sat up to face his old friend. “Not exactly. I don’t even think he knows what he wants.”

“Really?” Bones said, always the skeptic. “And you know I was asking about that girl.”

Jim just waved it off.

“I’m going to regret this, but what happened?”

“I don’t know. I thought” - Jim hesitated - “she was interested. You couldn’t miss that look in his eyes. But apparently she was just doing the logical thing trying to maximize my happiness.”

“So she was trying to make you happy, what’s wrong with that?”

“She was just humoring me, doing what she thought I wanted.”

“What, because her stoic philosophy said so? It sounds like she went to a lot of trouble for something she supposedly doesn’t even want.”

JIm sighed. “I don’t know what she really wanted and what she was just putting up with. I don’t think she knows. Apparently she thought we were just going out as friends until I was foolish enough to kiss her.”

“And all of this because she doesn’t believe in emotions? Is that it?”

“Pretty much. I told her to think it over, but I don’t know what she’ll decide is the logical course of action.”

Bones scoffed. “If she wanted to be logical, she wouldn’t have gotten involved in this mess in the first place.”

“Bones,” Jim reproached him.

Bones gave Jim a look.

Jim let out a sigh and leaned back in his chair again, nursing his drink. “I can’t believe he thought that was what I wanted.” He only belatedly realized he had forgotten he was supposed to be talking about a woman, but it was too late and Bones knew the truth anyway.

“I’m still not sure what it is you do want,” Bones remarked.

It was Jim’s turn to look incredulous.

“If she does decide she wants to have emotions because of you, what then? What will you do? Stop seeing Janice - or whoever it is these days?”

“What does this have to do with Janice?”

“That’s something she wants, isn’t it? For you to stop seeing other women?”

Jim hesitated. “It’s more complicated than that.”

“You know, this is the most serious I’ve seen you and it’s all over a relationship that wasn’t even real with a” - Bones hesitated - “woman who has decided emotions are the root of all evil. What’ll you do if it turns into a real relationship after all? Because I’m not sure that’s what you want, otherwise you would have given up on her a long time ago.”

“Of course I want her,” Jim insisted.

“I don’t want to know,” Bones interrupted, even though they both knew that wasn’t what Jim was talking about. “I mean are you sure you’re up for the commitment? The expectations? What is it you’re so afraid of about staying with the same woman for more than a couple months?”

* * *

Jim was sitting in his office, wading through the latest batch of proposed experiments for the upcoming launch between a morning of training and an afternoon of meetings. It wasn’t really Spock’s area of expertise, but Jim was sure if they just talked about it, he would understand it a lot better than he ever could from staring at the proposal. But Spock needed space, so Jim did what he could to give it to him.

Jim glanced up at the clock. Another hour until his first meeting of the afternoon. He had enough time to read four short papers at least, maybe six if he read quickly.

He tried to read the sentence again, but it still didn’t make any more sense. He tried the next paragraph instead. It wasn’t much better. He flipped through the remaining pages; just six left. Six long, dry pages. He wondered if incoherence was a reasonable basis for rejecting an experiment, but that wasn’t fair. If only he had the chance to just talk to the authors, he was sure it would all be perfectly clear, but no one had time for that, so reading bone dry proposals it was.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. Jim reflexively glanced up at the clock. There was still almost an hour left before his meeting.

“Come in,” he said, putting the proposal aside, not without a little relief.

To Jim’s surprise, it was Spock. He couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him, uncertain as he looked.

“Spock, it’s good to see you,” Jim exclaimed and waved him inside.

Spock nodded in greeting. “Captain Kirk, I would like to invite you to my house after work today to play chess and discuss some matters” - he hesitated - “of personal importance.”

“Of course. I’d be happy to.” Jim’s heart hammered eagerly in his chest. He knew he shouldn’t get his hopes up, but it was hard not to.

“Thank you for your understanding.” Spock inclined his head once more and took his leave.

That evening, after dinner, Jim drove to Spock’s house. It looked quiet and dark when he arrived; not a lick of light crept through the blinds drawn over the windows. He knocked cautiously at the door, once, and then again.

A moment passed before Spock opened it to let Jim inside the darkened hall. The only light came from the kitchen, where Spock must have been waiting prior to his arrival. As it was, the house seemed overly large and lonely. Spock greeted Jim stiffly, looking out of place and uncomfortable in his own home, but perhaps it was unfair for Jim to blame that on the location - he doubted he was the only one wondering what this evening would bring.

Spock led the way into the dark living room. He turned on the bright overhead light, favoring illumination over ambiance - probably for the best - and motioned for Jim to sit on the sofa while Spock retrieved the chess board. He did not meet Jim’s eyes as he set up the board on the coffee table. Of course, as the host, Spock took black, leaving Jim the white.

“I desire your company,” Spock confessed, his eyes still fixed upon the board. “Your absence from my life has been keenly felt.”

Jim’s chest seemed to swell with relief, but he hesitated to celebrate. “But?” he asked.

Spock looked up. He sat with his back rigidly straight, his expression the same, though Jim could see his emotions silently warring across his features. “It is not rational. To allow such feelings goes against everything I hold true.”

Jim let out a sigh that took most of the air filling his chest with it, though a small spark of hope remained. “I know,” he said.

They finished arranging their pieces in silence - Jim would have let their fingers bump together as though by accident, but he knew better.

Spock’s play was focused and methodical, each move planned well in advance with a strategy in mind. There was no question what occupied his thoughts. Jim, for his part, was distracted at best, more occupied with what to say than what his next move would be.

At last, he could hold his peace no longer - the game was probably a lost cause already. “Is that it then? Love is illogical, case closed?”

Spock hesitated. He finished moving his rook before answering. “Love is not logical,” he affirmed. “But now that I have found it, I find myself irrationally reluctant to part with it.”

Spock seemed none too pleased with his dilemma, but Jim couldn’t help but smile a little. “There’s nothing quite like falling in love.”

“It is a unique experience.”

Jim idly eyed the board in search of a way out of the trap slowly closing around his king, but none was forthcoming. Instead, he turned his attention back to Spock and tried a different approach; “What could be bad about caring for someone?”

“No one life should be of greater importance than any other,” Spock replied. The words sounded well memorized.

“Nor should any one person’s happiness be more important than any other’s,” Jim couldn’t help but put in.

Spock inclined his head, ignoring or missing the point.

Jim finally advanced a pawn.

“Love can get in the way,” he admitted.

Spock glanced back up from the board, which he had been examining as he determined his next move. He seemed surprised by Jim’s admission, though he agreed, “Emotions are generally obstructive to reason.”

“It can’t be easy going into space knowing you have a wife waiting and worrying back home.”

“Such feelings do distract from one’s duties. And yet you champion them?”

Jim nodded, if a little hesitantly - he couldn’t shake Bones’s accusations so easily. “It’s hard giving away so much of your life to someone else, but maybe you come out of it a better person than when you started.”

Spock seemed to pause to consider Jim’s words. “That is an intriguing hypothesis. What evidence do you have to support your claim?”

Jim shrugged. “Call it an intuition.”

“I see,” Spock replied skeptically.

“I think I’m a better person now than when we met. I try to live up to your expectations, at least.”

“I am certainly no more logical for your influence, but I would be inclined to say that its effects have not been entirely negative.”

“Thanks,” Jim said with a wry smile.

The game of chess didn’t last much longer. Jim made another foolish mistake and Spock won handily.

“Good game,” Jim said, and they shook on Spock’s victory. Jim was reluctant to let go, but he knew better than to linger.

“Another?” Spock suggested.

“Of course,” Jim said.

He took a moment to lean back on the sofa and rest his eyes as Spock reset the board. For now, all was quiet aside from the occasional soft clink of the pieces.

“I’ve been so afraid of losing my freedom, but all I’ve done is make myself lonely,” Jim mused.

He glanced up to find Spock looking at him, an eyebrow raised.

“It isn’t logical, but maybe it’s better than the alternative,” Jim suggested.

Spock still seemed unconvinced.

Jim just shook his head and pushed himself upright. “Shall we?” He gestured at the board.

Spock inclined his head and they began again.

* * *

Some days later, Jim and Spock were having dinner at Jim’s house. The conversation had meandered from the latest batch of experiments Jim was evaluating, to Spock’s current calculations for an upcoming launch.

As they fell into a lull, Jim remarked, only half-joking, “I’ve been counting down the days until my own lift-off.”

Spock visibly stiffened, his back even straighter than before.

Jim sighed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

“No,” Spock insisted. “It is only rational for you to enthusiastically anticipate your upcoming launch. If you did not, it would be illogical for you to have become an astronaut. I merely need to temper my response.”

“Spock,” Jim attempted. He stopped himself short of reaching out to put a hand on Spock’s arm.

“Did you not indicate that it would be difficult for you to do your duty if you had-” Spock corrected himself, “if someone was ‘waiting and worrying’ for you?”

“I did, but that doesn’t mean you need to ‘temper your response,’” Jim protested.

Spock raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

“Your happiness isn’t any less important than mine.”

“I do not see how the experience of concern furthers my happiness.” Spock’s voice rose as he spoke, suggesting just how much his “concern” had affected him.

Jim hesitated, picking at his dinner. “Maybe a little concern is a price worth paying for caring about someone - and being cared about in return.”

“No emotion is without danger, even love.”

Despite himself and Spock’s tone of disdain, Jim’s heart skipped a beat at the declaration, even though he knew it didn’t mean half of what he wanted it to. He sighed. “I wish I could tell you a little love never hurt anyone, but you’re right. Love isn’t always easy.”

“It can be highly detrimental, particularly when both parties are not in agreement.” Spock’s former wife was no doubt at the forefront of his mind, but Jim felt his own shame staring back at him.

Jim glanced away. “You’re right. Bones keeps warning me someone will get hurt if I’m not careful.”

“It is better not to feel at all,” Spock concluded.

“But is it even possible to get rid of all your emotions?”

“Certainly.”

“Are you sure?” Before Spock could reply, Jim continued, “Even if you could, is it worth it? Is it worth the months or years of struggling, fighting with yourself? Maybe it is, but I would hate for you to destroy yourself along the way.”

Spock looked down, ostensibly turning his attention to his dinner, but Jim was sure he was turning Jim’s words over in his mind. He made no move to answer and Jim didn’t really expect him to - that evening or maybe ever.

He was therefore surprised when Spock spoke, his voice quiet and distant, his eyes still fixed on the table, “Emotions are destructive things. I know what fear and anger can drive men to do. I saw only the beginning, but that was more than enough. I still remember the shouting, the screaming, the breaking glass. My family could only hide in our house and hope they did not find us. Through it all, my father sat silent and stoic. He betrayed nothing, though I know it destroyed him.”

Jim did the only thing he could think to do; he reached out across the table and put a hand on Spock’s arm - a silent reminder of the present.

Spock looked up and met Jim’s eyes. He seemed a little lost, a little frightened even, but he was stronger than Jim had given him credit for, and he regarded Jim with remarkable warmth. “However,” he said, “in truth, I have never found your emotions to be destructive. On the contrary, I admire your ability to use your emotions to the benefit of others, not least of all myself.”

“Spock” - Jim didn’t really know what to say. “You flatter me.”

“Not at all,” Spock insisted.

Jim smiled. “Well, thank you. I know you’re not so sure about them, but I’ve benefitted quite a bit from your emotions.”

“That is very kind of you.”

Spock met Jim’s eyes with quiet intensity.

Jim had never met anyone quite like Spock. No one drew him in in quite the same way. No one knew him so well, and yet Spock still admired him without any hesitation. Whatever became of them, as long as Spock was still in his life, Jim knew he would never be alone.

* * *

Jim and Janice stepped out into the parking lot outside the office. It was the middle of the day, hot and humid outside, with large, dark clouds on the horizon threatening rain later in the afternoon.

“So, what was it you wanted?” Janice asked, her arms crossed over her chest, as they meandered along the sidewalk around the building.

Jim smiled. “The pleasure of your company isn’t enough?”

She gave him a sharp look, though he could tell her heart wasn’t entirely in it.

“Thank you for letting me take up some of your lunch hour,” he said more seriously. “I thought we should talk somewhere a little more private.”

“So, what is it? If you wanted to ask me to dinner you would’ve just dropped by. Why the secrecy?”

Jim hesitated. “I owe you an apology.”

“Do you now?” Janice asked with a wry smile.

“I know. I’ve known for a while that we wanted different things, but I ignored it because I enjoyed your company.”

Her smile faded as she realized what he was saying.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to settle down. You deserve a man who can give you more than that.”

She cut to the point - “So you were just messing around? Is that it?”

“I wouldn’t say that. I cared for you, I still do-” He reached out toward her automatically, but stopped himself short.

She cut him off before he could finish speaking, “But not enough. I know. It still hurts to hear it, but I’ve known you weren’t serious for a long time now. I hoped, but” - she shook her head - “I knew I was never enough for you.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I know. No woman could ever be enough for you.”

“I should have told you I wasn’t looking to settle down,” Jim admitted. “It wasn’t fair for me to let you believe otherwise.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

Jim wished there was something more he could say. He could see her fighting back tears. But all he had was the painful truth.

“This is goodbye, Jim Kirk,” she said at last. “You’re not getting any more chances.”

With that she turned and took her leave. He watched her proud figure retreat back into the office building.

* * *

It was a nice evening in. They were at Jim’s house because Jim didn’t mind hosting and he couldn’t blame Spock for avoiding his own home as much as possible. It wasn’t a date, just two friends enjoying a homemade dinner. They talked eagerly about work and the promise of new discoveries that came with each mission into space.

Still, it was impossible for Jim to miss the tension like static in the air, the questioning glances and words that should not have been laden, but seemed to hold some extra weight. Jim did his best to restrain himself, but it all came so easily, a suggestive smile, a meaningful look, and he could tell Spock felt it too.

After dinner, they went to the living room for a game of chess. Jim was starting to get a sense of Spock’s strategy and was looking forward to having another chance to beat it. They were evenly matched, unless one of them was distracted, but Jim had an idea that might just turn the tables - before, of course, Spock inevitably figured out how to counter it.

However, as the game proceeded, it became clear that Spock’s thoughts lay elsewhere, and it was not long before he said with no preamble, “I could not be a satisfactory lover.”

Jim put down his knight and fixed Spock with his full attention, making no effort to conceal his intention to protest - quite the opposite.

“Though I have found that I do have feelings for you which I never thought possible, there are still things I cannot do, needs of yours I will not be able to meet,” Spock explained. “Perhaps you are correct that it is impossible for me to rid myself of emotion, but I will never wear my heart upon my sleeve. You must be aware that there are many disadvantages to pursuing such a relationship and I can see few advantages.”

“I can see more than a few,” Jim said with a smile. “What about for  _ you _ ? Do you think the disadvantages outweigh the advantages?”

“For myself?” Spock asked as though he hadn’t even considered the possibility.

Jim nodded.

“Of course, there are many disadvantages; there is the danger to both of our careers were we to be discovered, and the perhaps more critical dangers of allowing oneself to be influenced by emotion. However” - Spock hesitated - “I have found that I greatly value your companionship, perhaps beyond what is rational.”

“That’s very kind of you, Spock.” Jim took a moment to compose his thoughts. “I usually find your arguments convincing, but in this case, I’m afraid there’s a lot you’ve overlooked. As I think I’ve made clear, I would be more than happy to ‘pursue such a relationship’ if that’s what you want. But I’ve also had a lovely evening just eating dinner and playing chess.” He leaned in a little closer to accentuate his words. “It’s up to you.”

Spock gave a hesitant nod. “If you are certain, then I will consider it.”

Jim nodded and when it seemed Spock had nothing more to say, he picked back up his knight and advanced it. “Check.”

* * *

“If you are certain that it is what you want, then I would also like to attempt a relationship,” Spock declared. He was standing in the middle of Jim’s living room, the door only barely shut behind him. He hadn’t even had the chance to take off his hat or suit jacket.

Jim had to ask, “You’re sure?”

Spock inclined his head. “If you are.”

Jim grinned. “Of course.”

Their eyes met, expressing volumes that they could not or perhaps were just not ready to say aloud. Spock still looked uncertain, as though searching blindly for what to do next. Jim for his part, felt his heart racing, eager to take the next step. But he knew better than to rush.

Instead, he took Spock’s hat and helped him out of his jacket, casually admiring his slender form beneath his shirt.

Then, Jim suggested, “Dinner?”

Spock nodded, perhaps a little relieved at the direction. “Yes, I am quite famished.”

Jim offered Spock his arm.

Spock hesitated, glancing between Jim’s arm and his eyes, as though trying to puzzle out his intention. But at last, he accepted and allowed Jim to lead him a few feet into the dining room, though he did raise an eyebrow at the formality.

While Spock made himself comfortable, Jim rummaged through the cabinets and brought out a couple of tealights for atmosphere. He turned off the lights in the dining room, so the room was illuminated by the flickering candles, helped by some extra light from the kitchen. Then, he ducked into the living room to put on a record to give them a little soft background music. It may all have been overkill, but this was Jim’s chance to do things right, and he wasn’t going to waste it.

Once everything was set up, he brought out their dinner and joined Spock for a romantic evening.

Jim leaned in across the table, toward Spock. “So, where were we?”

Spock looked unconvinced and still a little uncertain, but not displeased.

By the time they finished dinner, it was too late for a game of chess with work the next day. They lingered at the table talking for as long as they could, but eventually Jim began to yawn and Spock could no longer ignore the clock.

“Thank you very much for an exceedingly satisfactory evening,” Spock said as they stood by the door. “You have been very kind to me.”

Jim smiled. “It’s the least I can do to make it all up to you. I jumped to a lot of conclusions and I want to do everything I can to make it right.”

“It is not necessary,” Spock insisted. Then he seemed to hesitate, not quite ready to leave, but at a loss for words. “If you would like,” he began haltingly, “there is something I want to do.”

“Go ahead.” Jim’s heart leaped a little - he had a feeling he knew what Spock was suggesting.

Spock took a step closer, held Jim firmly by the shoulders, and leaned in to kiss him. Their lips pressed together briefly - Jim was careful not to push too far. And then Spock pulled away, his eyes a little wide from even such a gentle kiss.

At last, Spock said softly, “Good night, Jim.”

“Good night, Spock.”

And then, Spock took his leave, into the night. Jim lingered by the door, watching him until his car was out of sight.

* * *

It was late. Their evenings together always seemed to go late. However, as usual, Spock found himself reluctant to leave Jim’s company and return to a house that had belonged more to Trisha than to himself. Spock and Jim were sitting side by side on the couch in the living room. They had played one game of chess already and did not have time for another, and though Jim attempted to conceal it, Spock could see his alertness diminishing.

“It is late,” Spock said aloud with some irrational hesitation.

Jim yawned. “You’re right.” However, he made no motion to stand, and instead moved a little closer to Spock, so he was leaning ever so slightly against his shoulder, as though in an effort to make it even more difficult for Spock to depart.

“I should leave and allow you to sleep.”

“You could stay the night,” Jim suggested a little less blearily, though his tone was not quite serious.

Spock’s eyes narrowed as he attempted to decipher the offer. “You are aware that I cannot engage in-”

Jim waved it off before Spock figured out how to finish the sentence. “Just to sleep. If you want to, that is. You could even stay in the guest bedroom if you’d prefer.”

“That is very generous of you.”

Jim shrugged. “I know I’d get lonely all by myself in that big house. But only if you want to,” he tacked on.

Spock inclined his head in acknowledgement, though that was not how he would have described it. “I do not intend to impinge upon your privacy, but if you are certain.”

Jim smiled as though there was nothing that would make him happier. Spock’s heart seemed to skip a beat. “I always enjoy your company.”

This was not something to be rushed, but in truth Spock knew the decision had already been made, to delay it was illogical. “Then I can see no reason to refuse.”

Jim pushed himself to his feet and stretched out his back, suddenly depriving Spock of the not unwelcome proximity and warmth. “Should I make up the guest bedroom?”

Spock hesitated again. He could feel his heart beating much faster than was necessary, presumably in some combination of nervousness and excitement. He had only ever slept in the same bed as Trisha. This - he glanced up at Jim, watching him expectantly, but with no impatience, as though he would be content to look at Spock forever - was something entirely different.

At last, Spock said, “Unless you would prefer to sleep separately, I believe it is not necessary.”

Jim’s smile widened.

“However,” Spock reluctantly cut off their plans before they got too far, “I did not think to bring nightclothes.”

“Oh” - Jim seemed surprised. “I usually just sleep in my boxers, but if you want I have some spare pajamas, though they’re not exactly your size. Or we could wait until another night when we’re a little better prepared.”

“That should be sufficient. Thank you.” To Spock, it seemed almost surreal to be having such an intimate conversation so casually, but he had no objection.

“Not at all,” Jim said.

He led Spock through the dining room, to his bedroom on the opposite end of the house. There was nothing particularly remarkable about the room, like the rest of the house it was largely barren, but Spock was keenly aware that he was encroaching on Jim’s private quarters. The bed that took up the middle of the room looked somewhat small for two people, though it was not much different from Spock’s own bed.

While Spock stared wide-eyed at his surroundings, Jim had retrieved some nightclothes from a drawer, which he handed to Spock. “They should fit alright.”

“Thank you.”

“Just shout if you need anything,” Jim said, before leaving Spock alone in his bedroom.

Spock did not stand there examining the room, though he was illogically tempted to do so - it would have been rude to prolong Jim’s exile from his own room. It was strange, changing in an unfamiliar location, so he moved quickly. The clothes were not a perfect fit; the pants in particular were a little short, but it was very generous of Jim to lend them to him.

As Spock stepped out of the bedroom, Jim burst into laughter.

Spock gave him a pointed look and straightened his back to stand with as much dignity as he could manage.

“Sorry,” Jim said, trying to rein in his expression. “Are they comfortable?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Come on, we should get some sleep.”

Jim led the way back into the bedroom. Without giving any warning, he began to undress. Spock hastily averted his eyes and busied himself with closing the door behind them.

“You can look. I don’t mind,” Jim said - he sounded amused.

Spock glanced up to find Jim mostly naked - he had said he slept only in his underwear. There was something surprisingly captivating about the sight, not only Jim’s healthy, well-maintained figure, but even more so the comfort with which he displayed it. He seemed more at ease now, wearing almost nothing, than Spock often felt fully dressed. His confidence was admirable to say the least.

“Are you alright?” Jim asked. “I would offer to put on some pajamas, but you’ve got my only pair.”

Spock shook his head. “I have no objection. You wear your nightclothes well.”

Jim smiled. “Why, thank you, Spock. I would say the same of you-”

“But they are not my own.”

Jim nodded. “I should warn you, I’ve been told I move around a lot and tend to sprawl.”

“Thank you for the warning. I endeavor to sleep unobstructively.”

“I can try to do the same, but no promises.”

Spock hesitated. “I do not mind the company, I often become cold in the night.”

Jim grinned. “Good to know.”

Spock’s heart rate accelerated a little at the thought of the suggestion that lay behind Jim’s smile. He still could not entirely believe what came next. They were standing as though frozen in the middle of Jim’s room, and Spock did not know how to begin.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Jim said, cutting through Spock’s increasingly irrational thoughts. “I’ll be right back.”

Spock nodded and then Jim was gone, leaving Spock alone in his room once more. It was another strange feeling in an evening full of strange feelings, getting into a bed that was not his own. The sheets were cold, but he doubted that would last long.

Spock had just begun to get comfortable when Jim returned and joined him in bed - Spock could only imagine that he was cold wearing so little. Spock almost expected Jim to sprawl across the bed immediately, but instead he kept carefully to the side, so they were not even touching.

“Are you alright?” Jim asked.

Spock nodded. “Yes.” He hesitated. “Thank you.”

Jim smiled again, his features golden in the light of a single bedside lamp. “It’s my pleasure. Do you want space?”

Spock swallowed. He did not know how he would fall asleep with his heart beating so fast. “No. Make yourself comfortable.”

“You’re sure?”

Spock nodded again.

“Ready?”

“Yes.”

Jim switched off the light and the whole room vanished into darkness. Spock could only hear Jim moving beside him.

“Tell me if you need anything,” Jim whispered.

“I will,” Spock said.

The bed creaked as Jim shifted beside him. He lay his arm gently across Spock’s chest and Spock could feel Jim lying close to him in the darkness. It was not entirely like anything Spock had ever experienced before, exciting, but comfortable. There was something uniquely reassuring about Jim’s presence, his confidence and his seemingly endless affection which Spock was fortunate to share in. For once, it was preferable not to be alone.

Spock carefully shifted a little closer to Jim to savor his warmth.

* * *

Jim turned on the record player.

He walked back over to Spock as the music began, a little livelier than the usual romantic serenade; a tune with a little swing to it. Instead of joining Spock on the couch, Jim held out a hand and said, “May I have this dance?”

Spock raised an eyebrow at him, but accepted Jim’s hand and allowed Jim to draw him to his feet.

Jim led Spock into the middle of the floor, out of the way of the couch and the coffee table. They stood face to face, only a foot or so apart. 

“You’re taller, so you get to lead,” Jim prompted with a grin, as he guided Spock’s hand to his waist, to rest just above his hip.

Spock tilted his head to the side and looked at Jim with questioning uncertainty, but he didn’t seem entirely displeased with this turn of events.

Only once Spock’s hand had settled on his hip did Jim move his own hand up to Spock’s shoulder. With the other, he claimed Spock’s free hand. And then he slowly shifted his feet, attempting to draw Spock with him across the floor. But as much as Jim tried to gently guide him, Spock walked stiffly after, and Jim was sure his own movements were far from flowing and graceful as he approximated half-remembered steps.

At last Jim stopped with a wry smile and a shake of his head. “Loosen up,” he urged, taking both of Spock’s hands in his own and twisting on the spot, so their arms swung together.

Spock merely raised an eyebrow at him, as though to ask what he intended to accomplish.

“You really don’t like dancing?” Jim asked.

“I lack experience,” Spock explained. “I did not expect to find myself in a position where I would have a use for such an ability.”

“I’m sure you can figure it out. I’m a little out of practice myself.”

Spock still looked skeptical.

“Here” - Jim took Spock’s hands and put them on his hips, and then draped his own arms over Spock’s neck, drawing them much closer together. “Dancing doesn’t have to be hard. People just like to overcomplicate things.”

Jim swayed a little in time with the music. Their eyes locked together and maybe without even thinking about it, Spock began to sway too. There was something electrifying about the way their bodies almost brushed against each other, not quite touching.

Jim tried to memorize the patterns in Spock’s warm brown irises. They seemed to glow golden in the light. Spock’s gaze always seemed to hold such incredible weight, as though it could express all the feelings he kept so carefully under wraps. He didn’t have to say anything; Jim felt it all - or maybe it was just his own feelings he could see reflected in Spock’s eyes.

“May I?” Jim asked softly, tilting his head up ever so slightly toward Spock’s.

Spock nodded, moving as ever with careful precision.

Jim leaned in and gently brought their lips together. Spock wasn’t experienced enough to kiss back exactly - and maybe he would never be - but this time any stiffness melted away. Spock’s lips were soft and malleable to Jim’s touch, trailing his every movement. Jim leaned in a little and Spock pushed back, giving the kiss a little force. Jim pulled Spock a little closer still, so their chests were pressed together. His fingers curled into Spock’s sleek hair.

When at last Jim pulled away he was breathless and his cheeks were flushed and Spock looked at least a little wide-eyed.

“You’re full of surprises,” Jim murmured.

Spock raised an eyebrow in response.

* * *

“You have stopped ‘going out’ with Miss Rand,” Spock remarked over dinner one evening at one of their usual restaurants.

“We were looking for different things.” Jim hesitated. “I’ve started seeing Nyota Uhura - she’s one of the calculators. It’s nothing serious, just enjoying each other’s company. She’s not looking to settle down yet either, and certainly not with me.”

Spock nodded, but still he didn’t seem too pleased. “I know her. She is a highly intelligent woman, worthy of your affections.”

Jim reached out to put a hand on Spock’s forearm and lowered his voice - everyone around them was preoccupied with their own conversations. “Just because I like Nyota doesn’t mean my feelings for you have changed.”

“I am aware,” Spock replied stiffly, clearly unconvinced.

“I’ve always loved easily. There’s more than enough to go around.”

“I am certain that Miss Uhura is a very suitable match for you, much more so than myself,” Spock added quietly.

Jim sighed. “It’s not a competition. Though, for the record, I happen to find you much more suitable.”

Spock raised an eyebrow at him. “That is highly illogical.”

Jim gave him a look. “I was planning on inviting Nyota over for dinner, why don’t you join us. If you’re still not comfortable with it after that, then I’ll stop seeing anyone else.”

“That was not my intention,” Spock protested.

“I know, but I can tell you don’t like it.”

“Will it not be suspicious if you discontinue your relations with women?”

Jim shrugged. “I’m a busy man. It may come as a surprise, but I’m not always seeing someone.”

“I see.”

“I’ve actually never been with anyone as long as, well…” Jim cut himself short - the question of how long he and Spock really had been together was a somewhat dubious one. Instead, he raised his glass. “To a long, happy friendship.”

“Yes.” Spock followed suit. “To our friendship.”

* * *

Spock arrived at Jim’s house early as Jim had instructed. He pushed aside his illogical reluctance and gave the door a solid knock.

He did not have to wait long before Jim answered it with an easy smile. “Spock, there you are! It’s good to see you.”

Jim ushered Spock inside, took his coat and hat, and in the midst of it all gave him a quick kiss on the lips before hurrying back into the kitchen. Spock followed not far behind, eyeing the small dining room table set for three as he passed.

“How’ve you been?” Jim asked as he busied himself with their dinner. “I feel like I’ve barely seen you at work, I’ve been so busy preparing for the launch.”

Spock nodded. “I have been well. I am currently analyzing data from the latest probe. Is there anything I can do to be of assistance?”

Jim shook his head. “It’s almost ready. Find anything interesting so far? Any gravitational anomalies?”

Spock raised an eyebrow at him. “No, no anomalies. However, the readings do have their points of interest.”

“Go on,” Jim said with surprising eagerness, though he was still preoccupied with his cooking.

Spock was in the midst of explaining the results of his current analysis when there was a knock on the door.

“That must be Nyota,” Jim said, turning off the stove. “You’ll have to finish telling me about those results over dinner.”

Spock remained standing in the kitchen while Jim went to answer the door.

From a distance, he heard Jim greet her with the same enthusiasm as he had greeted Spock, “Nyota, it’s good to see you. Come on in.” Jim led her into the dining room. “You know Spock of course.”

“How do you do?” she said with a smile.

Spock inclined his head in greeting. “I am well, thank you. And yourself?”

“Looking forward to spending the evening with two charming gentlemen,” she answered in a way that was somewhat reminiscent of Jim’s affectionate teasing.

“Why don’t you two have a seat and I’ll be out with dinner in a second,” Jim suggested.

Spock and Uhura obliged and took their places at the table, one on either side with a space for Jim at the head.

While they waited for Jim to join them, Uhura remarked, “Jim’s told me a lot about you.”

“I see,” Spock replied hesitantly. “He has also mentioned you to me.”

She leaned conspiratorially across the table. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was trying to set us up.”

Spock raised an eyebrow at her - this was not at all what he had expected. “That seems highly unlikely.”

She gave him a sympathetic smile. “Don’t worry, he told me, I know it’s too soon.”

It took Spock a moment to realize that she was presumably referring to his former wife. “Yes,” he replied stiffly. It was typically not logical to lie, but under the circumstances it was the only rational course of action. He hesitated. “What is your interest in Jim?”

She shrugged. “He’s nice, charming, I just thought I’d like to get to know him a little better - nothing too serious. It’d be like asking why you’re friends with him.”

Spock nodded. It was not the answer he had expected. “I see. A very rational approach.”

“Why thank you. I think so. By the way, I was wondering about your calculations.”

“Yes?”

She had just begun to explain her question when Jim came in with their dinner. “Don’t let me interrupt,” he insisted and soon joined them.

Dinner passed much more quickly than Spock had expected. They spoke primarily of work. Spock and Uhura had a particularly long exchange about the intricacies of his calculations, but when he glanced over at Jim to clarify, he seemed not confused, but rather pleased with their discussion. Jim spoke a little of his preparation for the upcoming launch and the experiments he had been tasked with evaluating, but he seemed largely content to listen.

When they had all finished eating and the conversation tapered off, Uhura stood to leave. “Thank you for a lovely evening, but I should probably be getting home.”

Jim followed suit. “I can take you,” he offered.

“One of you gentlemen has to,” Uhura pointed out. “I don’t think Christine would be too happy if I called her to pick me up at this hour.”

“Well, I’d be happy to. Spock, make yourself comfortable. I shouldn’t be too long.”

Spock followed them to the door. “If you are certain.”

“Of course, see you soon.”

“It was a pleasure,” Uhura said.

Uhura and Spock shook hands before she and Jim took their leave.

Suddenly Spock found himself alone in a silent house that even seemed larger for the others’ absence, his mind still racing from what had been a very eventful evening. He did not expect that Jim would be away for very long, but he did not know for sure. He scanned the living room in search of something to occupy himself, when he realized that there was work to be done.

The table was cleared and he had made significant headway on cleaning the kitchen when Jim returned.

“Spock, I’m back,” Jim called out as he stepped inside. “What are you-” he cut himself off as he entered the kitchen and saw Spock working at the sink. “That’s very nice of you,” he said drawing closer, so he was standing just behind Spock.

“It was the logical course of action,” Spock insisted.

“I can take it from here,” Jim offered.

“That is not necessary. You prepared dinner, it is only fair for me to clean up.”

“I don’t mind.”

“I am not an accomplished cook like yourself, but I likewise have no objection to cleaning.”

“If you insist.”

“I do.”

Jim moved so he was leaning against the counter, just visible out of the corner of Spock’s eye, but not quite in the way of his work. “You seemed to get along well,” he remarked a little too casually.

“Yes,” Spock replied, pleased to have moved on to a more productive line of conversation. “She is a highly intelligent woman and a gifted conversationalist, not entirely different from yourself.”

“You flatter me.”

“Not at all. It was Miss Uhura I intended to complement with the comparison.”

“You can call her Nyota.”

“Very well - Nyota,” Spock corrected himself. “Did you actually intend to set Nyota and I up?”

Jim shrugged. “I thought the two of you would get along.”

“I see.” After a moment’s consideration Spock said, “I have no intention of pursuing a relationship with her.”

Jim smiled. “I know.”

Spock soon finished doing the dishes.

“Shall we?” Jim gestured toward the bedroom.

Spock nodded.

They changed in silence. Spock was acutely aware of Jim’s presence just behind him, but he allowed Jim his privacy until they were both dressed for bed. Jim adjusted the lights and they slid under the covers. Spock lay neatly on his back while Jim curled up beside him, his head resting against Spock’s shoulder and his limbs splayed out across Spock’s body, as though to embrace him.

It took a little while for them to make themselves comfortable despite bony elbows and knees, but when they did it was very comfortable indeed. There was something so incredible it was still difficult for Spock to believe despite the clear truth, about being so close to such a remarkable man. Spock could feel Jim’s chest rise and fall with every peaceful breath. His bare skin was soft and smooth where it pressed against Spock’s own. Jim surrounded Spock and enveloped him in warmth and affection.

Spock took Jim’s hand in his own to hold him there.

“Good night, Spock,” Jim whispered, his breath softly tickling Spock’s ear.

“Good night, Jim,” Spock whispered back.

For a moment they just lay there in the darkness, as though wrapped up in a universe all their own. But Spock’s mind still whirred with thoughts that would not rest until he gave them voice.

At last, he said, “If you wish to continue to see Nyota, then I have no objection.”

“You’re sure?” Jim asked. “You can sleep on it.”

“Yes. I trust you.”

Jim curled a little closer in response.

* * *

Breakfast that morning was quiet. They had been up late last night celebrating before the launch, and now they were both still waking up. Spock was stiff and uneasy all through the evening, but by the time they got home they were both too tired to talk, especially since Jim had a long day ahead of him. And now Spock still looked nervous despite all his efforts to conceal it.

Jim reached out across the table to squeeze Spock’s hand. “It’ll be fine,” he insisted with an easy smile.

Spock raised his eyebrows.

Jim tried another approach. “You should see it for yourself. It’s beautiful out there.”

“Perhaps one day I will.”

Jim sighed. “Is there anything I can say that will stop you from worrying?”

“It is not logical to worry,” Spock answered reflexively, though Jim could see a knowing look in his eyes. “However, nothing can prevent me from being concerned for your wellbeing.”

“I know. I just…” Jim trailed off. “There’s nothing quite like being out there. I don’t want you to be down here worrying while I’m up among the stars.”

“I do not intend to give you cause for concern while you are in outer space. I cannot prevent myself from ‘worrying,’ as you put it, but I will also endeavor to share in your happiness.”

Jim searched Spock’s eyes for everything he wasn’t saying aloud. “You’re sure you’ll be alright? I know it wasn’t easy for you last time.”

“No, it was not,” Spock admitted. “However, I believe I may be better equipped to handle such emotions now that I am aware that I am not immune to them.” He met Jim’s gaze. A steady warmth shone in his deep brown eyes.

“Good.”

Spock hesitated. “I have no desire to keep you on Earth. It is only rational to have some concerns, but I would not think to keep you from where you belong.”

* * *

“Five… four… three… two… one… zero…”

“Lift off. The clock is running,” Jim declared over the radio.

Even though Jim could not hear him, Spock joined in with measured applause as the whole room cheered.

“Everything looks good up here,” Jim continued when the cheering died down. “The navigation computer is functioning perfectly.”

Spock let out a shallow breath of relief.

There was nothing he could do, therefore it was not logical for him to worry, but still he knew his mind would not rest until Jim was safely on the ground. The best he could do was remember that Jim was happy, up where he belonged among the stars. Even as Spock awaited his return, he was aware of some tragedy in the fact that Jim would only be “up” for so long.

That night, Spock slept alone in the bed he had once shared with his wife. He tossed and turned in the dark, suddenly cold without Jim there to warm him, remembering all of the things that could go wrong in outer space.

Finally, he gave up on sleeping, got out of bed, pulled on a bathrobe, and stepped out into the brisk night. As his eyes adjusted, he could make out large swaths of dark grey clouds, and between them starry sky. Jim was not currently orbiting above Houston, and his view of the stars was very different indeed, but out under the night sky was the closest he could get to Jim that night by some abstract measure of closeness, which he found irrationally reassuring. So he lingered under the stars until the chill air and his exhaustion forced him back to bed.

* * *

The remainder of the week passed slowly. Spock counted down the days. While he was awake, he occupied himself with analyzing data, and he spent the nights at home alone. After the first night, he still slept restlessly, but without so much difficulty, and he endeavored not to worry. And each day that passed, he remembered that Jim had one less day to spend among the stars.

Finally, Spock joined his colleagues once again to watch the astronauts return to Earth. The metal capsule, the only remains of the spacecraft, looked so small, adrift in the ocean, as though it had fallen there by accident and only incidentally happened to protect the men inside. Jim and his copilot, viewed from so far away Spock could hardly recognize them, clambered out of the capsule into bright orange life boats, adrift on the ocean, as though they were survivors of some terrible shipwreck rather than returning victorious from a great achievement for all mankind. Fortunately, they had not been abandoned to their fate; there was a helicopter nearby and they were conveyed to safety for their heroes’ welcome.

For two more days, Spock waited, though he rested easier knowing Jim was safe and sound. On the second night, however, Spock’s sleep was interrupted by a loud pounding. He struggled into awareness as the noise persisted. He felt for his watch in the darkness and read it with bleary eyes. It was four in the morning, not yet sunrise.

He stumbled to his feet, pulled on a bathrobe and shuffled to the door, which was undoubtedly the source of the noise. Spock endeavored to approach the conundrum rationally and not allow his hopes to cloud his judgement, but he was pleasantly unsurprised to find Jim standing on the other side of the door. He allowed Jim inside without a word.

“It’s good to see you too,” Jim said with a smile that Spock had not seen in days that irrationally felt like much longer.

Spock could feel the muscles in his face tightened into a smile. He attempted to relax them, but it took a not insignificant effort and even then he could not entirely conceal his pleasure. When the door had finally closed behind him, he took Jim by the shoulders, there in front of him at last. With only a moment’s hesitation, Spock leaned in and kissed him, savoring the contact.

“Jim,” he said as he broke away. “I did not expect to see you so soon.”

Jim shrugged. “I came as soon as I could. I didn’t realize I would get here so late - or early.”

“I have no objection. I have slept enough for the night. Come, would you like some breakfast?”

“Sure.”

Spock ushered Jim into the dining room and set about preparing breakfast for both of them.

* * *

Everyone crowded in front of the TV in Bones’s small, old-fashioned living room. Earlier that day, at work, they had all seen the lunar module land on the surface of the moon, and now it was time for the astronauts to disembark. There was an energy, an excitement in the air, even Spock was smiling a little, off on the edge of the crowd.

“There he is, there’s a foot coming down the steps,” the news anchor declared.

Everyone leaned in a little closer, as though that would make the blurry image clearer. Most of the screen was dark, only at the very bottom could they make out the silhouette of a ladder as though they were looking at it from underneath. On it was a dark shape that could only have been one of their own.

“Good Neil, we can see you coming down the ladder now,” the man in mission control reported over the radio.

They could see bulky boots moving on the stairs.

“So there’s a foot on the moon, stepping down on the moon,” the news anchor announced.

“I’m at the foot of the ladder,” the astronaut’s voice sounded over the radio, distant, but much closer than should have been possible. “ The LM footpads are only depressed in the surface about 1 or 2 inches, although the surface appears to be very, very fine grained, as you get close to it. It's almost like a powder. Ground mass is very fine. ”

The camera shifted, so they were looking at the module from the side. In the midst of the fuzzy grey image, they could make out the faint light outline of a space suit stepping away from the module.

“Armstrong is on the moon. Neil Armstrong, thirty-eight year old American, standing on the surface of the moon,” the news anchor declared.

And then the astronaut spoke once more - they all craned in to hear him - “That’s one small step for man. One giant leap for mankind.”

Everyone burst into applause, a few people even let out a loud whoop.

“I never thought I’d see the day,” Bones marveled, for the moment just as starstruck as the rest of them.

“It is not surprising, but this does mark a great accomplishment,” Spock said.

Bones shot him a glare, but it didn’t hold much heat.

“They still have to get back home,” Scotty cautioned.

“If anyone can do it, they can,” Jim said. “It’ll be a hard act to follow.”

“You’re not scheduled for a launch,” Janice reminded him.

Jim waved it off. “It’s only a matter of time. First the moon, then Mars, and then who knows.”

“We’re still a long ways before we’d be able to go to Mars,” Scotty reminded him. “It’s a lot farther than the moon, you know.”

“Maybe by the time we get to go to Mars, they’ll let me fly one of the rockets,” Sulu said wistfully.

“There’s still a lot we can do between now and then,” Nyota pointed out. “With unmanned probes we can learn about the whole solar system.”

“But it’s not quite the same,” Jim said.

“Perhaps not, but it is a necessary step to enable manned spaceflight,” Spock said.

“And I’m sure there’ll be more manned flights in the meantime,” Nurse Chapel said. “They haven’t let up on training.”

Janice remarked a little too casually, “They’re talking about launching a space station.”

“That’d be something new!” Sulu exclaimed.

While the others continued eagerly chatting about the possibilities, Spock maneuvered over to Jim and said softly, “I am certain that one day we will travel beyond Mars.”

Jim nodded. “I just hope I get to see it.”

* * *

Jim and Spock walked in silence around the bank of the lake near the space center. The bright blue afternoon sky had begun to fade as the sun slowly sank to the horizon. Glowing ribbons of red and yellow were reflected across the lake’s glassy surface, intercut with towering neon pink and purple clouds.

Jim paused and looked out over the still water, his eyes inexorably drawn toward the sky. Spock stopped beside him, so their arms just barely brushed together. He glanced over at Jim - Jim could feel the concern in those deep brown eyes, but Spock remained mercifully silent.

Jim let out a long breath. At last he said quietly, as though saying it louder would make it more real, his eyes fixed upon the horizon, “I’m done. They’re not sending me out again.” He clenched his fists in impotent frustration

“There is no chance-?” Spock began to ask.

Jim cut him off with a shake of his head. “I’ve already tried.”

Spock hesitated. He slowly reached out and rested a hand on Jim’s shoulder.

Jim gave a rueful smile and put his own hand on Spock’s. “Even if I did go up again, the farthest I could get is the moon if I’m lucky, Mars maybe within the century. But all I see are the stars.”

“One day,” Spock promised, “I am certain humankind will travel beyond the solar system.”

“I know. I just wish I could be there.” Jim sighed. “But there’s no point in worrying about what one cannot change.” He turned to face Spock. “What will you do?”

“There is still much to be done, experiments to run, probes to launch. There is an entire galaxy to discover.”

Jim smiled a little. “You’re right.”

“And whatever you do, wherever you go, I will remain by your side.”

Jim stepped a little closer to Spock so their shoulders bumped together. They continued on walking around the lake, side by side, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the lake reflected an inky black sky full of stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And if this was a movie, it would end with the camera panning up to the stars as the ethereal singing theme from Star Trek: The Original Series begins to play.
> 
> Thank you, everyone for reading! This is a story I've had in my head for a little while now, and I'm thrilled to have had a chance to share it as part of this year's T'hy'la Bang alongside [Fishermansoul](https://fishermansoul.tumblr.com/)'s wonderful art!
> 
> The [splash-down](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PLQ6V6Stm2U&t=317s) and [moon landing](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gg5Ncc9GODY) are based on actual footage, with the newscaster's dialogue transcribed from the original CBS coverage.


End file.
